Nick played bass guitar. He was handsomely dark and wore long, loose, white gauze shirts. I thought he was groovy.
Fixing a Hole was my favorite of the songs they played, so much that I still think of their band, not the Beatles, whenever I hear it.
I was a groupie.
Every weekend, I'd be at the Jolly Ox, a Nashville steak house, testing my newly acquired, legal-drinking-status, until last call and Nick's last set. Three of us would pile into his MG, me sitting on the lap of the drummer. Young and carefree, unaware I was on a ride I'd remember for decades.
Here I am, a groupie again. I've recently discovered Andrea Dawson and Lucky Peterson.
(Yeah, let's talk about who's lucky.....)
I'm following them to Zander's Thursday night for more R and B favorites. I hear they've a sax player joining them. Far out!
I believe each day gives us something; a few minutes of afternoon light casting intricate shadows on a dining room wall, or a delicious Pesto because the basil got knee-high.
Maybe some things broke my heart.......
I write about them all.
My name is Becca. I live in Dallas but I left my heart in Florence, Italy. I'd like to thank you for reading.