People sometimes ask me if I miss living in Oklahoma. And when I'm sitting in the Hollywood Bowl on a beautiful summer evening listening to Sting, I look at them in bewilderment and laugh as I ask, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
Zoo Amphitheater versus the Hollywood Bowl? You be the judge.
On Tuesday I spent time with my three favorite men: Jesus, Sting, and my husband. In that order.
I started the morning volunteering at church which is something that I love to do. The one thing that I learned from my dad (who actually taught me a lot about what not to do) is that you have to give back; you have to serve you community, your church, your country. Being a volunteer is part of who I am and I love to serve my church because, "To whom much is given, much more is required." (Luke 12:48) And I have been given much.
So after hanging with Jesus for a few hours ("I love me some Jesus..."), I headed off to get ready to spend time with my boyfriend Sting. You remember the Friends episode with the list of "okay" celebrities? And then Ross takes Isabella Rossellini off his list just as he runs into her at the coffee shop? Well, Sting is the only one on my laminated list. My husband is fully aware.
We packed our picnic--fruit, cheese, crackers, sushi, and white wine--and headed to Hollywood. Unfortunately when we got there we found out that with this particular concert we weren't going to be allowed to take the wine inside. The concert was getting ready to start so we did the only thing that we could--we dumped the water in our water bottles, quickly filled them with the wine, and smuggled them inside like we were still in our twenties.
You know the pictures and videos of the young girls screaming and crying while they watched the Beatles? I always thought that was so strange. I mean, they're just performers, entertainers. Why act like such a nut? But I'll admit right now, when Sting started to sing I suddenly got it. Perhaps it was the wine in the water bottle, but sitting there I wanted to cry I was so happy.
Sting put on such a good concert and I sat on the edge of my seat and sang along with every, single song. It might sound bad saying this, having spent the morning with Jesus and all, but I was having a religious experience. For the next 3 hours, all was right with the world.
Oh, yeah. And my husband was there too.
The End.
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