Guys, you will never guess who I went and saw in concert Monday night ... unless you've ever read this blog before or been in my company for more than 30 seconds.

Guys, you will never guess who I went to see in concert on Monday night … unless, you know, you’ve read this blog before or been in my company for more than 30 seconds.

Good news for those of you who are sick of my little obsession: I’m pretty sure Monday was the last time I’ll be seeing Van Halen perform for quite a while.

I didn’t know until 24 hours beforehand that I would be attending this concert … but when the opportunity arose to watch it while located just four rows away from Eddie, I couldn’t resist. And I’m glad I couldn’t resist … because the show was even better than the Philly performance I saw earlier this month. Or maybe it was just that I was sober enough this time to more fully appreciate it. One of those. Probably a little of both, actually.

In addition to how awesome it was to be so close to the stage, and how amazingly well the band performed, another reason I’m glad I went is this: Seeing Van Halen play live, and listening to their music in general, inspires me to not give up on my dreams … which, after the past couple of years, and at the age of 42, is getting more and more difficult to do.

So thank you, Van Halen, for inspiring me. Or fuck you, Van Halen, for fanning the flames of my discontent.

Probably a little of both, actually. (But mostly the first one.)

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