love. (for a concert and a band.)

Last fall, my friend Karen texted me.

“Buy tickets for this show.  You won’t regret it.”

These words were followed by a link to purchase tickets to a show at the Peace Center.

Drew Holcombe and Ellie Holcombe.  The You & Me Tour.

I was already very familiar with Ellie Holcombe.  I’ve enjoyed her music for years.  Probably mentioned it over and over on my Friday posts.

It’s encouraging and hopeful, beautiful and upbeat.  

I knew that her husband was a musician, but for reasons unknown, I had never really listened to his music.

I don’t know why, other than just straight up trusting my friend’s good judgment, but I followed her instructions.  (The lesson here? Be careful what you text me to do.  I might just follow your advice.)

I clicked the link, choose good seats, bought a pair of tickets.

Since that November day, I intended to listen to Drew Holcombe so I’d be more familiar with his songs before the concert I was attending with I had no idea who.

But I forgot about Drew.  I forgot about the concert.  And I didn’t even think to look at the specifics of the date of the show.

Valentine’s Day.

A couple weeks before the show, I received a friendly reminder email about my two tickets.  I texted a few friends and some were already going and some were out of town and I was excited when Hilary said she was available and would love to go.

I still didn’t think through the ramifications of attending a concert on Valentine’s Day downtown.  

Since we could, and Hilary’s husband was not at all precious about his wife missing out on a Valentine’s evening with him, H and I decided to try to fit in dinner before the concert.  As moms do, we dropped girls off at soccer practice, arranged meals and rides for our kids and headed downtown, pretty indecisive about where to eat but confident it would all work out.

Our first choice restaurant was a few blocks away but the night was young and we were chatty and it was no problem.  Thai food.  Long line out the door.  More than twenty minute wait.  No worries.  Hilary cleverly suggests calling Trappe Door to see if they are already crowded.  “We’ve got zero space for reservations and the tables are all fun, but the bar is first come, first served and there are a few seats there.”  Because it is generally excessively loud there, we first tried Basil.  (Also – spring rolls.)  But the Basil staff basically laughed when we said we had no reservations.  Tupelo Honey? Same.  Apparently it is illegal to eat dinner at home on Valentine’s Day.  We finally circled back around to Trappe Door and took our chances at the bar.  

The concert was crowded.  We arrived just in time.  Our seats were smack dab in the center of the aisle and we had to crawl across every single seated person who had arrived on time.

Also.  Every other concert attendee was there as a part of a couple.  Because there was a SEA of couples.  Left, right.  Beside us.  Behind us. In front of us.  Everywhere.  Couples. Couples. Couples.

It was a show for love, about love, on the love day.  

I had given that no thought.  It just didn’t connect in my mind.  And I am really glad I didn’t.  Because if I had thought of all of that, I might have missed out on this lovely, sweet, incredible show.  Such a fun evening.  Wonderful talent on that stage.  

And you know I’m not anti-love.  I’m for it.  I’m for marriages.

There certainly was an undercurrent of romantic marital love.  A praise for affection and romance and . . . . love.  But it was sweet.  And charming.  Appealing and simple.  Pure enough for me to rejoice with the love seen on stage.  For me to be thankful for the love seen in the other couples in the audience.

(There was one song – a cover of “Fields of Gold” – that struck a fast and hard chord.  Because of its personal memories to me.  But it didn’t last and it wasn’t painful.)

I went in as an Ellie Holcombe fan.  I forgot to ever listen to one single Drew Holcombe song.

And, after this concert, I still like Ellie.  I do.  But, you guys, I adore Drew Holcombe.  His voice.  His lyrics.  The songs. His inflections and cadence. 

When I came home I wasted no time actually purchasing many of his songs, not just being content to add them to a Spotify list.  I needed to OWN them.

“American Beauty”
His cover of “I Won’t Back Down” with JohnnySwim
“Ring the Bells”
“Mercy”
“I Like to Be With Me When I’m With You”
“Shine Like Lightning”
“Avalanche”
“What Would I Do Without You?”
“Another Man’s Shoes”
“You and Me”
“Electricity”
“Love Anyway”

The kids are now groaning when I turn on my music.  (Sorry, kids – I’ve listened to enough David Bowie and that song that says “Hey, Look Ma, I Made It” to earn a little “American Beauty” on repeat, alright?)

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