Last night I saw Kevn Kinney and Friends. I sat in the crowd and was wowed by the immense talent of his “friends” that shared the stage with my long time muse, mentor, and hero. I watched but couldn’t help but daydream with a slight bit of envy. I want to be one of his friends. I want to be up on that stage playing the songs that he has inspired me to write for over 15 years. Would he like me? Would he get into it? Would he want to jump up with Peter Stroud and sit in with me? Or would he gringe and go outside for a smoke? Would he just think to himself, “THIS is what I influenced?”
The more I think about it the more I think that maybe it’s best to not go that route. Maybe it’s the dream. That idea that it’s so unattainable to me that makes me want it so bad. There’s a need for validation for some reason. I want to be invited to be one of his “friends.” I want him to love my songs. I want to look down and see him with his eyes closed, nodding his head and smiling in approval. That’s how it goes in my mind and ya know what? It’s a damn good dream and maybe, like most dreams, it’s just meant to be just that: a dream. But hey, it’s a damn good one.