PURE GOLD
You never know. You just never know when you are going to have a golden, glowing moment--a moment which will stand alone and claim a spot that will be in its niche in your heart forever. I had such an unforgettable moment last Friday evening.
My beloved grandson, Stephen and his band, the Sixers, were slated to play in a club called the Avalon in Boston. There had been much back and forth between us as to whether I would be able to attend the show. There were obstacles, transportation difficulties--but they were all surmounted. When Friday evening came my visiting brother Kit, my daughter, Lucia, my friend Occhi (her husband) and I merrily drove off to Boston looking forward to our evening at the Avalon. Stephen had not only given us tickets but had arranged for wonderful seats in the VIP section of the club.
What more could a grandmother want from her musical grandson? I sat watching as he delighted the packed hall of fans. He spared nothing to bring music and excitement to the hall. I reveled in the crowd’s obvious delight, in the songs and in the antics of this irrepressible group.
About two thirds of the way through this musical revelry, Jessica, his right hand helper, appeared at my side and said very quietly, “Nini, Stephen has asked me to take you backstage. He would love to have you sit at the side of the backstage and give inspiration for a new song he wants to sing.”
Well, I thought, this sounds like fun, so I gladly took her proffered arm as she skillfully maneuvered us down the stairs and through the arm-waving crowds. Halfway there, she turned me over to a nice young man named Roberto who completed the trip through the cheering fans.
Finally seated on the sidelines back stage, I had all the fun of a close-up view of Stephen and his grand associates in action. What a treat this is, I thought. Just as I began to wonder what was the song for which I was to be the inspiration, Stephen stopped singing and approached the microphone. The tightly packed audience throughout the hall quieted. He then said,
“I want you all to meet on of the most beautiful women I have ever known, my grandmother. Let’s all get up for Mrs. Jean Roetter.”
At this, he turned to where I was - and with a radiant smile – he motioned for me to come on stage. The crowd roared their delight as I walked out on stage on gossamer feet. I almost floated at this unexpected and heady request. Stephen gave me his most engaging smile as he said,
“Let’s do a few soft shoe steps, Nini,” and so we did. We circled the stage several times. On our last swirl I turned and waved to the crowd who were on their feet, arms extended over their heads, cheering. I bowed and waved farewell to them and then withdrew from the stage. I have carried the glow of this golden moment deep within me-where it will always live, and be what it was as it happened, a moment of pure gold.PURE GOLD
You never know. You just never know when you are going to have a golden, glowing moment--a moment which will stand alone and claim a spot that will be in its niche in your heart forever. I had such an unforgettable moment last Friday evening.
My beloved grandson, Stephen and his band, the Sixers, were slated to play in a club called the Avalon in Boston. There had been much back and forth between us as to whether I would be able to attend the show. There were obstacles, transportation difficulties--but they were all surmounted. When Friday evening came my visiting brother Kit, my daughter, Lucia, my friend Occhi (her husband) and I merrily drove off to Boston looking forward to our evening at the Avalon. Stephen had not only given us tickets but had arranged for wonderful seats in the VIP section of the club.
What more could a grandmother want from her musical grandson? I sat watching as he delighted the packed hall of fans. He spared nothing to bring music and excitement to the hall. I reveled in the crowd’s obvious delight, in the songs and in the antics of this irrepressible group.
About two thirds of the way through this musical revelry, Jessica, his right hand helper, appeared at my side and said very quietly, “Nini, Stephen has asked me to take you backstage. He would love to have you sit at the side of the backstage and give inspiration for a new song he wants to sing.”
Well, I thought, this sounds like fun, so I gladly took her proffered arm as she skillfully maneuvered us down the stairs and through the arm-waving crowds. Halfway there, she turned me over to a nice young man named Roberto who completed the trip through the cheering fans.
Finally seated on the sidelines back stage, I had all the fun of a close-up view of Stephen and his grand associates in action. What a treat this is, I thought. Just as I began to wonder what was the song for which I was to be the inspiration, Stephen stopped singing and approached the microphone. The tightly packed audience throughout the hall quieted. He then said,
“I want you all to meet on of the most beautiful women I have ever known, my grandmother. Let’s all get up for Mrs. Jean Roetter.”
At this, he turned to where I was - and with a radiant smile – he motioned for me to come on stage. The crowd roared their delight as I walked out on stage on gossamer feet. I almost floated at this unexpected and heady request. Stephen gave me his most engaging smile as he said,
“Let’s do a few soft shoe steps, Nini,” and so we did. We circled the stage several times. On our last swirl I turned and waved to the crowd who were on their feet, arms extended over their heads, cheering. I bowed and waved farewell to them and then withdrew from the stage. I have carried the glow of this golden moment deep within me-where it will always live, and be what it was as it happened, a moment of pure gold.PURE GOLD
You never know. You just never know when you are going to have a golden, glowing moment--a moment which will stand alone and claim a spot that will be in its niche in your heart forever. I had such an unforgettable moment last Friday evening.
My beloved grandson, Stephen and his band, the Sixers, were slated to play in a club called the Avalon in Boston. There had been much back and forth between us as to whether I would be able to attend the show. There were obstacles, transportation difficulties--but they were all surmounted. When Friday evening came my visiting brother Kit, my daughter, Lucia, my friend Occhi (her husband) and I merrily drove off to Boston looking forward to our evening at the Avalon. Stephen had not only given us tickets but had arranged for wonderful seats in the VIP section of the club.
What more could a grandmother want from her musical grandson? I sat watching as he delighted the packed hall of fans. He spared nothing to bring music and excitement to the hall. I reveled in the crowd’s obvious delight, in the songs and in the antics of this irrepressible group.
About two thirds of the way through this musical revelry, Jessica, his right hand helper, appeared at my side and said very quietly, “Nini, Stephen has asked me to take you backstage. He would love to have you sit at the side of the backstage and give inspiration for a new song he wants to sing.”
Well, I thought, this sounds like fun, so I gladly took her proffered arm as she skillfully maneuvered us down the stairs and through the arm-waving crowds. Halfway there, she turned me over to a nice young man named Roberto who completed the trip through the cheering fans.
Finally seated on the sidelines back stage, I had all the fun of a close-up view of Stephen and his grand associates in action. What a treat this is, I thought. Just as I began to wonder what was the song for which I was to be the inspiration, Stephen stopped singing and approached the microphone. The tightly packed audience throughout the hall quieted. He then said,
“I want you all to meet on of the most beautiful women I have ever known, my grandmother. Let’s all get up for Mrs. Jean Roetter.”
At this, he turned to where I was - and with a radiant smile – he motioned for me to come on stage. The crowd roared their delight as I walked out on stage on gossamer feet. I almost floated at this unexpected and heady request. Stephen gave me his most engaging smile as he said,
“Let’s do a few soft shoe steps, Nini,” and so we did. We circled the stage several times. On our last swirl I turned and waved to the crowd who were on their feet, arms extended over their heads, cheering. I bowed and waved farewell to them and then withdrew from the stage. I have carried the glow of this golden moment deep within me-where it will always live, and be what it was as it happened, a moment of pure gold.PURE GOLD
You never know. You just never know when you are going to have a golden, glowing moment--a moment which will stand alone and claim a spot that will be in its niche in your heart forever. I had such an unforgettable moment last Friday evening.
My beloved grandson, Stephen and his band, the Sixers, were slated to play in a club called the Avalon in Boston. There had been much back and forth between us as to whether I would be able to attend the show. There were obstacles, transportation difficulties--but they were all surmounted. When Friday evening came my visiting brother Kit, my daughter, Lucia, my friend Occhi (her husband) and I merrily drove off to Boston looking forward to our evening at the Avalon. Stephen had not only given us tickets but had arranged for wonderful seats in the VIP section of the club.
What more could a grandmother want from her musical grandson? I sat watching as he delighted the packed hall of fans. He spared nothing to bring music and excitement to the hall. I reveled in the crowd’s obvious delight, in the songs and in the antics of this irrepressible group.
About two thirds of the way through this musical revelry, Jessica, his right hand helper, appeared at my side and said very quietly, “Nini, Stephen has asked me to take you backstage. He would love to have you sit at the side of the backstage and give inspiration for a new song he wants to sing.”
Well, I thought, this sounds like fun, so I gladly took her proffered arm as she skillfully maneuvered us down the stairs and through the arm-waving crowds. Halfway there, she turned me over to a nice young man named Roberto who completed the trip through the cheering fans.
Finally seated on the sidelines back stage, I had all the fun of a close-up view of Stephen and his grand associates in action. What a treat this is, I thought. Just as I began to wonder what was the song for which I was to be the inspiration, Stephen stopped singing and approached the microphone. The tightly packed audience throughout the hall quieted. He then said,
“I want you all to meet on of the most beautiful women I have ever known, my grandmother. Let’s all get up for Mrs. Jean Roetter.”
At this, he turned to where I was - and with a radiant smile – he motioned for me to come on stage. The crowd roared their delight as I walked out on stage on gossamer feet. I almost floated at this unexpected and heady request. Stephen gave me his most engaging smile as he said,
“Let’s do a few soft shoe steps, Nini,” and so we did. We circled the stage several times. On our last swirl I turned and waved to the crowd who were on their feet, arms extended over their heads, cheering. I bowed and waved farewell to them and then withdrew from the stage. I have carried the glow of this golden moment deep within me-where it will always live, and be what it was as it happened, a moment of pure gold.PURE GOLD
You never know. You just never know when you are going to have a golden, glowing moment--a moment which will stand alone and claim a spot that will be in its niche in your heart forever. I had such an unforgettable moment last Friday evening.
My beloved grandson, Stephen and his band, the Sixers, were slated to play in a club called the Avalon in Boston. There had been much back and forth between us as to whether I would be able to attend the show. There were obstacles, transportation difficulties--but they were all surmounted. When Friday evening came my visiting brother Kit, my daughter, Lucia, my friend Occhi (her husband) and I merrily drove off to Boston looking forward to our evening at the Avalon. Stephen had not only given us tickets but had arranged for wonderful seats in the VIP section of the club.
What more could a grandmother want from her musical grandson? I sat watching as he delighted the packed hall of fans. He spared nothing to bring music and excitement to the hall. I reveled in the crowd’s obvious delight, in the songs and in the antics of this irrepressible group.
About two thirds of the way through this musical revelry, Jessica, his right hand helper, appeared at my side and said very quietly, “Nini, Stephen has asked me to take you backstage. He would love to have you sit at the side of the backstage and give inspiration for a new song he wants to sing.”
Well, I thought, this sounds like fun, so I gladly took her proffered arm as she skillfully maneuvered us down the stairs and through the arm-waving crowds. Halfway there, she turned me over to a nice young man named Roberto who completed the trip through the cheering fans.
Finally seated on the sidelines back stage, I had all the fun of a close-up view of Stephen and his grand associates in action. What a treat this is, I thought. Just as I began to wonder what was the song for which I was to be the inspiration, Stephen stopped singing and approached the microphone. The tightly packed audience throughout the hall quieted. He then said,
“I want you all to meet on of the most beautiful women I have ever known, my grandmother. Let’s all get up for Mrs. Jean Roetter.”
At this, he turned to where I was - and with a radiant smile – he motioned for me to come on stage. The crowd roared their delight as I walked out on stage on gossamer feet. I almost floated at this unexpected and heady request. Stephen gave me his most engaging smile as he said,
“Let’s do a few soft shoe steps, Nini,” and so we did. We circled the stage several times. On our last swirl I turned and waved to the crowd who were on their feet, arms extended over their heads, cheering. I bowed and waved farewell to them and then withdrew from the stage. I have carried the glow of this golden moment deep within me-where it will always live, and be what it was as it happened, a moment of pure gold.PURE GOLD
You never know. You just never know when you are going to have a golden, glowing moment--a moment which will stand alone and claim a spot that will be in its niche in your heart forever. I had such an unforgettable moment last Friday evening.
My beloved grandson, Stephen and his band, the Sixers, were slated to play in a club called the Avalon in Boston. There had been much back and forth between us as to whether I would be able to attend the show. There were obstacles, transportation difficulties--but they were all surmounted. When Friday evening came my visiting brother Kit, my daughter, Lucia, my friend Occhi (her husband) and I merrily drove off to Boston looking forward to our evening at the Avalon. Stephen had not only given us tickets but had arranged for wonderful seats in the VIP section of the club.
What more could a grandmother want from her musical grandson? I sat watching as he delighted the packed hall of fans. He spared nothing to bring music and excitement to the hall. I reveled in the crowd’s obvious delight, in the songs and in the antics of this irrepressible group.
About two thirds of the way through this musical revelry, Jessica, his right hand helper, appeared at my side and said very quietly, “Nini, Stephen has asked me to take you backstage. He would love to have you sit at the side of the backstage and give inspiration for a new song he wants to sing.”
Well, I thought, this sounds like fun, so I gladly took her proffered arm as she skillfully maneuvered us down the stairs and through the arm-waving crowds. Halfway there, she turned me over to a nice young man named Roberto who completed the trip through the cheering fans.
Finally seated on the sidelines back stage, I had all the fun of a close-up view of Stephen and his grand associates in action. What a treat this is, I thought. Just as I began to wonder what was the song for which I was to be the inspiration, Stephen stopped singing and approached the microphone. The tightly packed audience throughout the hall quieted. He then said,
“I want you all to meet on of the most beautiful women I have ever known, my grandmother. Let’s all get up for Mrs. Jean Roetter.”
At this, he turned to where I was - and with a radiant smile – he motioned for me to come on stage. The crowd roared their delight as I walked out on stage on gossamer feet. I almost floated at this unexpected and heady request. Stephen gave me his most engaging smile as he said,
“Let’s do a few soft shoe steps, Nini,” and so we did. We circled the stage several times. On our last swirl I turned and waved to the crowd who were on their feet, arms extended over their heads, cheering. I bowed and waved farewell to them and then withdrew from the stage. I have carried the glow of this golden moment deep within me-where it will always live, and be what it was as it happened, a moment of pure gold.PURE GOLD
You never know. You just never know when you are going to have a golden, glowing moment--a moment which will stand alone and claim a spot that will be in its niche in your heart forever. I had such an unforgettable moment last Friday evening.
My beloved grandson, Stephen and his band, the Sixers, were slated to play in a club called the Avalon in Boston. There had been much back and forth between us as to whether I would be able to attend the show. There were obstacles, transportation difficulties--but they were all surmounted. When Friday evening came my visiting brother Kit, my daughter, Lucia, my friend Occhi (her husband) and I merrily drove off to Boston looking forward to our evening at the Avalon. Stephen had not only given us tickets but had arranged for wonderful seats in the VIP section of the club.
What more could a grandmother want from her musical grandson? I sat watching as he delighted the packed hall of fans. He spared nothing to bring music and excitement to the hall. I reveled in the crowd’s obvious delight, in the songs and in the antics of this irrepressible group.
About two thirds of the way through this musical revelry, Jessica, his right hand helper, appeared at my side and said very quietly, “Nini, Stephen has asked me to take you backstage. He would love to have you sit at the side of the backstage and give inspiration for a new song he wants to sing.”
Well, I thought, this sounds like fun, so I gladly took her proffered arm as she skillfully maneuvered us down the stairs and through the arm-waving crowds. Halfway there, she turned me over to a nice young man named Roberto who completed the trip through the cheering fans.
Finally seated on the sidelines back stage, I had all the fun of a close-up view of Stephen and his grand associates in action. What a treat this is, I thought. Just as I began to wonder what was the song for which I was to be the inspiration, Stephen stopped singing and approached the microphone. The tightly packed audience throughout the hall quieted. He then said,
“I want you all to meet on of the most beautiful women I have ever known, my grandmother. Let’s all get up for Mrs. Jean Roetter.”
At this, he turned to where I was - and with a radiant smile – he motioned for me to come on stage. The crowd roared their delight as I walked out on stage on gossamer feet. I almost floated at this unexpected and heady request. Stephen gave me his most engaging smile as he said,
“Let’s do a few soft shoe steps, Nini,” and so we did. We circled the stage several times. On our last swirl I turned and waved to the crowd who were on their feet, arms extended over their heads, cheering. I bowed and waved farewell to them and then withdrew from the stage. I have carried the glow of this golden moment deep within me-where it will always live, and be what it was as it happened, a moment of pure gold.
