Written by Jenny B.

A long, long time ago, when I played guitar and was no more than a paperboy in Atlanta. Just servant to the people. Listening to American Pie on my old record player and watching the riots on our black and white TV. The times were changing. Before I knew what was happening, I was living alone in a little apartment with my own color TV. Still playing guitar and singing part time in bars. Riding high off the music. Hitched a gig one day in a gay bar. Didn’t know quite how to feel about it. I mean, I knew the times were changing , but I was just a young man too caught up in the music to see my own bisexuality. 

They wanted me to play a few songs and I spent the night before picking out what songs would fit with the whole vibe. Barely slept a wink, though somehow I made it there on time and played a couple of sets.

I started off with a regular crowd pleaser; Don McLean’s American Pie. Followed up with Elton John’s Your Song and a few more numbers with a romantic tint.

Later that night, after a few drinks and talking to a few of the boys hanging around, a man, around my age, came up to me and told me he liked my singing and asked if I would come back. That’s when I decided to come back every weekend. Little did I know I’d just met my future husband. His name was Erin and he was a slim fellow.

I came back every Friday night. Erin was always there, smiling from the bar. We even sang a few duets. That’s when I knew I was falling in love.

I’ll never forget our first kiss, it was during a rather romantic rendition of Elton John and Kiki Dee’s Don’t Go Breaking My Heart. He lightly kissed me at the end, arms around my neck. The crowd cheered and I blushed.

Right then, I felt like a school boy with his first love again.

We went on to get married in 2016, after years of singing together and laughter.

No comments:

Post a Comment