The Cool Kid

I was totally a cool kid last night.

I went out on the town with man-friend to a trendy (at least I think it’s still chic?) bar and saw three live performances by three very different groups of musicians.

ON A SUNDAY.

In your face mid-to-late twenties! No room for a Buzzfeed joke here! I’ve bucked the stereotype and stayed up past my bedtime (on a work night, no less!).

The headliner, Allen Stone is one of my favorite artists, not only because of his jello hips that make me sway unconsciously, but also because the man can sing like there’s no tomorrow.

Except there was a tomorrow and it involved that fun thing we refer to as a nine-to-five. ‘Nine’ came too soon and even my hip young-ish adult charade couldn’t resist an extra cup of coffee.

Like any cool kid, man-friend and I arrived early to the show to get a good spot in line. Our efforts paid off when, while we were parking, Allen Stone's glorious bearded fave was spotted in the glow of my reverse lights. 

Obviously I was calm and collected, casually went up to him, and we chatted about the show, life on the road and what it means to create art.

…

OR at least that’s what I did in my head right after I squealed over seeing the tour bus (yes, I got excited about the bus) and before I walked a tight set of spastic U-turns on the sidewalk deciding if it would be lame to ask for a picture with him.

Man-friend stood by as all hopes for being considered “chill” swiftly crumbled away.

Allen, in all his glory.

Um, sorry I had a total fan-girl moment because I was 25 feet from a man who I just paid to see in an ocean of humans on a night that usually involves jammies, Pinterest and reruns.

I have no shame in shedding any former illusions of my persona because cool kid or not (clearly not) the show was worth every minute. Hey Allen Stone, you nailed it. Minnesota loves you, and it mostly radiates in the vicinity of myself and anyone else who has ever heard you hit a high note for any amount of time. Your soulful vibes run off you into your crowd and we dug you and your six-person ensemble as they brought down the Fine Line Music café with a serious homage to rocking out.

Forget that I completely failed in the face of stardom, I’m claiming residual cool from what proved to be an amazing show.