Ordinarily, I try to stick to the topic on this blog, but this isn't an ordinary day. I'm still basking in the glow of a love hangover.
I saw Jackson Browne in concert last night at the Greek Theater, my favorite venue in Los Angeles. Jackson Browne: California boy/poet/crooner of my youth. I used to calculate the difference in our ages- 14 years, not a problem. We'd make it work. Well, he's still got it goin' on. He worked his magic and the whole crowd - men and women - fell in love with him. And the home town effect was in full force.
At one point, I had a powerful urge to stand up and yell out, "I love you!" I might have done it if my husband hadn't been there. He wouldn't have minded actually, he understands my love for JB.
He played my favorite, Fountain of Sorrow, and the devastating The Pretender, both of which I bawled through, in a happy way (happy to be alive, at that time and in that place). He even played Take it Easy, the Eagles song he co-wrote with Glenn Frey. Ah, the quintessential California 70s song.
At 60, he's still ridiculously cute. He had shaved off his beard (men with dimples should never have beards, although Kris Kristofferson manages to pull it off) and at a glance still looked like a kid. He strolled casually onto the stage without announcement and charmed his way through two sets, three and a half hours total. His voice has held up, which I cannot say for some other musicians of the era... maybe he smoked a little less than the rest of them.
I know I'm hopelessly dating myself here, my younger readers probably don't even know who Jackson Browne is, much less know his music. But I'm all about full disclosure.
And I will be posting a Thrifty Threads segment later this morning when I recover my senses. Until then, "take it easy..."