U2 For Me Too.

There is so much to say.  Really, it could be about getting away for an evening.  It could be about two best friends on the verge of 40 living a dream.  It could be about leaving the children behind and sitting in your club seat watching the hoards move in; just enjoying no one expecting anything of you.  It could be reading the board before the band came onstage telling you right now there are 73,692 people in the stadium (73,692, will have to look for the final figure later).  It could be about the rush of energy when they took the stage.  It could be about singing the songs that you've been singing for over twenty years.  OVER TWENTY YEARS.  It could be about the warm air in the stadium or the soft breeze welcoming you after you step out.  It could be about the smell and the heat of the city.  About the faces of those that surround you on the light rail, all with the same type of satisfied yet tired looks on their faces at 1:00 am.  It could be about driving home from a friend's house, following the moon, an eye ever watchful on the road, for the deer, no two, standing on back country roads at 2:00 a.m.  It could be about the noise of the concert and then the quiet of the night.  It could be my mother coming down the stairs at 3:00 a.m., my kids tucked tightly into bed, long into sleep.

But it is 3:24 a.m.  I must get up in three hours to go to work.  No longer the teenagers that first fell in love with this band.  Now working women, with children, who sacrifice one night's sleep, because this right here is about building in your memory forever.  A love of music.  A love of words.  A love of old friends together in the heat of the city, in the night, heads leaning on the dirty side of a train car, looking at each other and knowing it was worth it.  So now off to bed, the rest of the words to come later, though I was dictating them in my head all night long.