"I don't think I can live with myself if I don't go to the Robert Francis show," I said to a friend last Wednesday. I called her at nearly 6 o'clock, just hours before the event. For three weeks, I'd been agonizing over the choice not to buy a ticket. I had an important commitment at 8 o'clock sharp the next day and need to be, well, sharp. But I couldn't take it. So, a friend and I went to the show.
Robert Francis wore a plaid shirt, Levi's and no shoes. He and his band brought Before Nightfall to life in a way that no stereo could convey. After his set, I went to the merch table, Moleskine in hand, and said,
"This might sound a little strange, but I've written about your music in my journal. I was wondering if you might sign the page? But don't read my journal." He laughed at that and wrote:
Thank you so much for coming,
Love,
Robert Franics
I didn't hide the smile that overcame my face, as I was pleased with my whit, and said, "I'd like a t-shirt too."