6:35 am
Kitchen
Just put my Girl in a cab for the airport.
I miss her already.
Cate and I had a wonderful night together last night, at the Gala. We go to at least a hundred of these things a year. Usually it's mostly the same crowd, the same routine, the same wine, same chicken or beef or fish on the plate. Sometimes I get up and play, sometimes I don't.
But last night was just special, for some reason. We just felt so connected, Cate and I. I couldn't stop looking at her, she couldn't stop smiling at me. We held hands under the table most of the night. And when I sang, it was to her.
She looked lovely. That purply-blue dress I like so much, the simple little necklace I bought her from Tiffany, those purple suede pumps from our Christmas at Kenneth Cole. My wife was the most beautiful woman in the room. I saw the way the other men looked at her. And I was damned proud she was there with me.
Cate said I looked pretty good too. She called me "debonair." I teased her and said she meant "old," and she just gave me the most adoring look and corrected me. "No, handsome," she said, so softly and lovingly. I just had to kiss her.
After the Gala we ducked out as soon as we could and caught the train home. We couldn't help ourselves; stood out on the platform, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing kisses and whispers. It was like some old Bogey and Bacall movie. All we needed was mist swirling around us.
On the train we shared some wine and snuggled together and talked. About the weekend, the kids, what's going on in our lives. But mostly about us, our marriage, our future. And when we got home we made love and held each other and shared whispered dreams about Little Bongiovis.
Now I'm more ready than ever to get this damned tour over with and get home to my family. To my Wife. To my Life.
But first there are commitments to be honored and a crew with families to feed and, in Cate's case, bad guys to be chased and caught. Then it will be time for us. Just us.
I hated saying goodbye to her this morning. And I'm gonna hate getting on my plane this afternoon. It will be two long and lonely weeks until I see her again.
Until then I have her perfumed scarf in my suitcase and her voice on my iPhone. And tender memories of last night to make me smile.
6:45 pm
Dressing Room
My Wife is a tease. Totally tried to distract me all through soundcheck. Not that I had much to check, was just mostly watching the band. And reading her texts. Minx.
She's in Chicago, waiting on some cop-friends to go to dinner. I'm only a couple hours away from her. Dammit, wish I could go with her. Think anybody'd notice? Ha ha.
So my saucy wife told me she was watching YouTubes of the Nassau show on her phone while she's waiting. She found one of us doing the jukebox medley, where apparently there is a lot of attention paid to my.... Assets, as she said. Like that's a fucking suprise.
But she said she rather appreciated it. And that it makes her hot when I sing Roadhouse. And wet. And horny.
Dammit, the woman is trying to kill me.
How the Hell am I supposed to do that song now? All I'll be doing is picturing her naked. And smirking.
Maybe I'll do it 22 times in a row. Heh heh.
She said to call her after the show, when I'm alone.
Damned straight I will.
11:40 pm
Suite
Let it Roll, Baby Roll.... Let it Roll..... All Night Long.
Heh heh heh.
Sounds like Jonny might be pissy for the next two weeks...
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