Last night, thanks to the kindness of our friend Danny, Mike and I went to a concert. We saw the band Wilco.


We had floor seats. Well, not seats. Floor admission. I normally like floor admission, because it’s fun to feel the music with the crowd. But Wilco fans are freakishly tall. For the first part of the show, all I could see was this:

my original view

I was impressed by the show, everyone told me Wilco is amazing live, but they really, really were. I always wonder how a band like Wilco can be so good live when their recordings are so intricate with different sounds and textures. They are immensely talented musicians and performers.

At one point Mike worked some mojo with a security guard, so we were brought up to the front where there were seats. The view was MUCH better.


But sitting there, surrounded by passionate Wilco fans, all I could think about was Maddie. She will never go to a concert or know the words to every song. She’ll never be a musician and have thousands of people sing along with her. And it’s so unfair that we’ll live the rest of our lives wondering what Maddie’s special talents would have been. What she would have been passionate about.

At the end of the show, the lights went purple.
purple lights at Wilco

I closed my eyes against the tears, and imagined Maddie dancing to the music.