So much has happened since we heard from Lucille.
"Little Mahalia Jackson in there. Twist, AR. The lady that started that brawl that night was named Lucille."
"So what did you mean?" He asks.
"What did I mean about what?"
"You know, I was thinking when I saw it tonight that I should have changed it. It's a Ben Howard song, but it's one of those things that I should've used the present tense."
He nods and turns and walks away.
It was the perfect night.
Like King says, "All the people with soul are in this one. I can always depend on Lucille."
The closest I can get to understanding why B.B. sings is when he goes away but I prepare myself because I become thankful for the blues. I celebrate because we both got to meet our mutually favorite photographer. He did the same thing I did when he saw her photograph. Except he said out loud, "Whoa," but longer and in the same spot I was when I saw it. And then we stood there in front of it and argued like two children and I hope we always speak that way.
She's twenty-five years old with a degree in photography and she froze that sphere to create that preservation that made us both stop and discuss and laugh at each other.
And I want to thank Sarah Dunn for being so kind, answering our questions and being a part of such an exquisite evening. It was beautiful. The whole place. Everyone's work.
Today I am grateful for those people who shell out money and time and I have no idea what it takes to put on a show, but they did it better than I could have imagined. I am grateful to finally admit during a game of chess that whatever blood flow which was supposed to surge and create strategy in my brain, trickled at best. So, I'm just grateful for Lucille, for music which fits after a weekend with my kid.