Stop Diablo Canyon

I sit here, in my rocking chair, in my wonderful sanctuary of a room, thinking about the last two days.
I went to the Jackson Browne concert last night. I went with my one ticket, armored with the strong woman "I can go stag and be fine with it", mentality that I have carried on a handful of occasions. There's nothing wrong with going to a movie, a benefit, a play, or a concert by yourself... And I've done it before, so no big deal, right? Well, I was partially right. I have been so jazzed about seeing Jackson live again, that I could give a monkey's uncle whether I was accompanied by anyone. In fact, I'd rather go alone, because I don't know anyone besides my Papa that would celebrate it more. Perhaps that was where the emotions got cornered in. The last time I saw Jackson Browne was when I surprised my Dad with tickets for his 50th birthday.
That's another story. But Jackson Browne's music and lyrics are very close to my heart, and he will always be one of those top 5 singer/songwriters that can break, and melt my heart in the same song.
I thoroughly enjoyed the show, and chatted with other fans sitting near me about previous concerts, how we love Jackson, and all that yummy stuff.
Afterwards, I took a little pity party walk around downtown Portland, in my favorite cowboy boots, my nice jeans, and my long black dress coat.... hey, you know I had to dress up, it's not every day that I take myself out on a nice date.
It was beautiful night, and I was glad to be alone with my thoughts, singing softly to myself the music still in my head from the show.
I wandered in to Hubers, Portland's oldest restaurant, to try one of their world famous Spanish coffee's for the first time. It was a splendid treat, and a nice atmosphere, I felt like I was in the shining, and it was perfect suited for the prior nights happenings. I sat with my crossword from earlier in the day, and embraced all the quiet chatter and laughter from the couples and small groups still left in the bar from the nights dinner rush.
I ended up conversing with an older man, and is son, (about my age), who had just come from the concert as well, and then was given crossword support by a debonair man in his late 70's and his younger partner, both darling in the most unconventional and old-fashioned ways... together we finished the cross word, and I felt accomplished in my little moment of glory.
I then bummed a cigarette from my lovely bartender, Leo, and went outside for some "not so fresh" air... That was when Vicki and Max walked by. Vicki is a long time vendor for street roots. Max is her little dog, and I used to see them a lot more often down at the office. I haven't been down there since I moved back home, and it was really refreshing to see her and Max. She was so dear to me, and handed me a card with a dove on it that read "ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE TO THOSE WHO BELIEVE... MARK 8:23" "EXPECT A MIRACLE"
She is so wonderful, always smiling, always warm and kind, and one of the hardest workers I've ever met. I tell you what, I would bet 700 billion dollars that Max is one of the most loved, and most content and fulfilled dogs in this world.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Peace and num nums...
Virginia