About a year ago, I was volunteering at the Jazz Festival, happily selling drink tickets and listening to the free stage at Old Market Square.
I stopped, for a moment, when I heard an aching, soul-searing, young, but oh-so-very-old voice soar above the crowd.
I looked at the woman I was selling tickets to and said "Who is this? I'm in love."
She said, "It's JP Hoe. But you can't have him, he's got a girlfriend."
Like I cared. I had a boyfriend, at the time.
Anyway, I wrote that name down on a bit of paper, and had been carrying it around for a whole year, to remind me to buy the CD when I saw it, or take note of any concert listings.
It's been a crazy year. I did very little CD shopping, and paid attention to even fewer concerts.
Fast forward to this past folk fest. My friend passed me $20 and asked me to pick up his newest, The Dear John Letters.
I got one for me, too.
He's marvelous. I think I'll keep him.