A guy walks into a bar .....

and it's already past his bedtime. But he's there to see the band, or more explicitly his daughter singing in the band and they start at 10:30. She gives a warm welcome and he picks a table right up front and the brown ale from a local brewery. They chat as the band sets up and begins the set. This will be her third performance and the first time he'll hear her sing with the band.

And it is a fine evening. The band is good, really good. He has always been partial to guitarists and this one must have put in his 10,000 hours. And his daughter is having the time of her life, the stuff she dreamed about. She is at ease and confident and she can sing with the best of them.

Not a big crowd, some empty tables, but the place has the nice feel of a local bar where people know each other. Some dancing begins between him and the band, free spirited ladies and a fun loving guy. Tribal dancing 'cause it feels good.  And he is aware that all around is the energy of youth, able bodied with an aura of sexuality. It is a club where his membership expired long ago though he does not lament it. A tall blond dancer extends her hand, an invitation to join the fray on the dance floor, but caught by surprise he declines, and then is disappointed he couldn't let go of the reserve, the distance he feels.

The Night Crawlers w/ Robin Tuttle at Zenos every Thursday night.