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11.11.15 00:42 
Maybe I AM 14 again...I've been on a pretty good run of seeing artists I have known at least that long and the most recent one was tonight when Howard Jones presented a stripped down concert subtitled "The Songs, The Piano, The Stories" to MAYBE 300 people at the Fine Line. On one hand, it's almost criminal that an artist of his stature is limited to such a small crowd, but on the other hand, how fortunate were we to have been able to watch such an intimate performance....and it's not like they didn't make money on it with some pretty inflated ticket prices they knew we'd pay for, and we sure did. I opted for the "reserved seating" which I had thought would put me in the balcony, but instead put me three tables from the stage along the side wall. The folks at the table ahead of me picked up their "reserved" sign and went looking for balcony space to stake a claim to...which meant I moved up one table and they ended up at mine. Nobody complained. For some reason, they put me down for 2, which must have been pity as I guess I was the only person to fly solo in the upper tier (I did see some tables for 3 amongst the couples). None of THAT mattered, either. One of the big reasons Howard Jones resonated with me and endured with me was the fact that Kelli Frankman was a super fan way before I even knew who he was, and I'm pretty sure she infected me, and I mean that in the best possible way because it's always given me a chance to think about her every time I hear him or use him as my "go to" artist at karaoke. I am now going on three years and change that I have promised her an email, so tagging her in this post will PROBABLY not balance the scales, but we have all the time in the world to fix that, right? So where was I? Ah yes. Kim and I went to see Howard perform his first two albums in their entirety back in 2012 at the Varsity Theatre and for a variety of reasons I wouldn't be able to pick a favourite between that night and this night, not the least of which is that 2012 me and 2015 me are obviously in entirely different headspaces and I [the remainder of this sentence has been redacted, buy me a beer and I'll tell it to you]. Funny thing is some of the stories, obviously well rehearsed, were similar to some of the stories I heard three years ago...which is totally fine as it makes them much more believable. Sometimes, like with Joe Jackson last week, you can lose yourself in how good a "piano" player they still are and how well-suited their songs are for such a sparse arrangement, but unlike Joe, Howard's voice sounds EXACTLY the same as it did as if I pulled out one of my four "Things Can Only Get Better" 12 inch singles and put it on the turntable I still haven't hooked up. No pitch-shifting key changes, no problem. It's extraordinary. Maybe there's something to the vegetarian lifestyle...naaaah. Anyway, I'm ALSO sure that part of my enjoyment of the night was Fine Line including a $20 bar tab as part of my "reserved" ticket, because I don't often have three Surly Furious pints at a show (especially a Tuesday show), but I'm sure it helped me summon the courage to stand in line, get a photo, get an autograph AND blurt out "thankyoufortheshowtonight, thankyoufortheshowthreeyearsago, thankyouforputtingyoursheetmusicuponyourwebsite, thankyouforbasicallythirtyyearsofmusic - whew, I'll be MUCH more relaxed if I see you after the NEXT time you come back here" which I think got a larf. In my mind, it will always have gotten a laugh. And I shook his hand, and he called me Chris, and oh and when he was singing he'd encourage us to sing along with him so I SANG WITH HOWARD JONES and really, what a great way to set $75 on fire. I do wish you were there sharing it with me....which is probably why I ended up immediately sitting down to try to share it with you HERE, now. And finally, the Wolves lost at home, AGAIN, so I guess I didn't miss much there...but I suppose I'm lucky I bought this ticket before the schedule came out, because I might have missed this show using the Wolves game as an excuse... Oh and FINALLY finally, while walking the 0.8 miles back to my customary parking spot alongside 333 7th St, passing by one of the open patios, a comely lass said "man, you have some great hair," to which I naturally replied "hey, thanks! Yours....is also nice." Swing and a miss. But at least I didn't break my stride. THANKS FOR READING - GOOD NIGHT, MOM
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