The Wallflowers

Tonight, I gave the teenage version of myself one of her greatest gifts. (Sorry for the 16+ year delay, you know we're easily distracted) I took myself and my inner child to a Wallflowers' concert. 

This adventure proved satisfying for a few reasons...

First of all, Jakob Dylan, the son of Bob Dylan, and the receiver of some of the most gratifying genetics. Ever. I know not everyone agrees that either Mr. Dylan is attractive (or talented). And well, those people are stupid. 

Second, "white guy dancing". This type of moving is rarely rhythmic, and always hilarious. Honestly, when I feel badly about myself I go to concerts where I'm guaranteed that white guys will gather and sway and make awkward hand gestures to what they feel is in sync with the music. I would say "no sir", but then where would I find my happy place?!

Third, music. Oh. My. Music!! If you don't go to see live shows, you're probably dead inside. The energy, emotion and enigma. Nothing I've ever experienced gets to me quite the same.

Keep it magical! 

(Also, thanks to my soul sister, Jamie and the rock-n-roll princess Jax for going with me!!)