And why it meant so much to me

Last Monday evening I knew we had plans, but I didn’t know what the plans were. I thought we were meeting up for drinks with my dear friend in Brooklyn.

Raja had surprised me with a two-day trip to New York, and the Monday evening mystery appeared to be the reason for it. We were staying with my sister and packing in as many NYC activities as possible in a 36-hour window (Met, bagels, Thai food, fancy wine, biking and running in Central Park, Broadway show).

When we arrived to the Bowery Ballroom in downtown Manhattan, there was a line down the block to get into the venue, but I couldn’t tell what the venue was or what we were waiting for. My sister and husband were in a state of nervous/happy anticipation, so I settled for that too.

When we made it through the line and in the door, the first thing I saw was a sheet of paper tacked to the wall with a list of dates and shows printed on it. At the top it read, “4/3 – THE TALLEST MAN ON EARTH.”

I was shocked – this is what we’re doing? Is today 4/3? He’s in the building with us right now? And so on, while they laughed and videoed me.

Later it struck me as funny that my first thought, with a jolt of adrenaline, was he is in the same building as us right now. Somewhere behind those curtains.

I’ve written before about the Tallest Man and what his music means to me. I think I love his music because – I mean, besides the fact that it is very good – it has been a constant in my life over the last decade. It’s been with me in periods of extreme overwhelm.

You know how your favorite author, or poet, or singer, feels like your friend and really gets you?

I first thought of going to see “my friend” eight years ago, when he was playing in Boston the same weekend I graduated from college. But there was too much going on, and I thought, “I’ll catch him next time.”

Then I moved overseas for the better part of seven years, and it turns out that none of the bands I love include Amman as one of their tour stops.

But I was traveling back to Amman from a trip home to the US a few years ago and my layover was London. Tallest Man happened to be playing that week in Victoria Park, London. I booked tickets. I even convinced a friend to come with me to the concert, as she happened to be traveling to London that same week.

A storm of anxiety and other problems hit me the month before I was set to travel. I realized I was in no shape to stop off in London for an extended layover and go see the show.

I apologized to my friend. She said it was fine, but she wouldn’t go if I wasn’t going, and we sold our tickets online. I flew back to Amman, anxious and disappointed.

In early 2020, I moved temporarily back to Boston from Amman. Tallest Man was set to play that May in Boston. This was my chance! Once again, I booked two tickets.

We all know what happens next, of course:

The show got rescheduled for spring of 2021. But by then I’d moved back to Amman to be reunited with my husband – we’d been stuck in different countries for months in the early days of the pandemic – and I knew I likely wouldn’t be back in time for the show!

I was planning to stay with my husband in Amman until his green card was processed, and we didn’t know when that would be.

2021 rolled around, January 6 happened, COVID dragged on, and vaccines took forever. Remember those days? The news was all, “Top E.U. Official Comes Under Fire in Vaccine Wars” and “One Case, Total Lockdown: Australia’s Lessons for a Pandemic World.”

It was a period of time that dragged, both as it was happening and in retrospect.

We were living in Amman and were mid-way through the interminable wait for Raja’s green card when the show got postponed again to spring 2022.

Surely, I thought, we’ll be back in the US by then and I can make it to the show! My tickets are still good! I forwarded the new dates to my best friend and wrote:

Fast forward one year: we were still in Amman, and we didn’t know it but we were nearly done with the interminable wait for Raja’s green card.

That was a weird time: his green card was about to be approved after two years of waiting, and shortly after, we would move to the US. But we didn’t know it. I gave that strange time its own story: The Bravery of Our Past Selves.

I gave my Tallest Man tickets to a friend of mine and his partner who were living in Boston and wanted to go. “Don’t tell me how it is!” I told them. I was so jealous and disappointed, though I was glad my tickets were being used.

After Raja and I moved to the US a few months later, I waited for Tallest Man to go on tour again so I could finally see him. It took awhile. He appeared to be taking a hiatus from touring.

Then just a month ago, I saw on Instagram that he was touring again and will be in Boston in September. I booked two tickets and told Raja, “I have to book this.”

“Sounds great,” Raja responded, secretly knowing he had already purchased us tickets for the New York show in two weeks’ time.

This should explain my extreme joy and shock upon seeing that printed out piece of paper tacked to the wall of Bowery Ballroom in downtown Manhattan.

We’d gotten there so early that we were in the 4^th row of the sold out, standing room only show. After an hour of waiting and a pretty good opener (Andrea von Kampen), there he was. My person!

We bounced, danced and sang along to every song. Let me restate that: I bounced, danced and sang along to every song while my husband and sister looked on, laughing at me.

I think they enjoyed themselves too. But maybe a bit less than I did. I was ecstatic. Tallest Man came down and walked through the crowd while singing his last song of the night, and I wish you could have seen my face when he passed right in front of us.

While listening to him and his band play the songs I know by heart, I had this sense of fleeting, perfect joy. I wanted to bottle it up to take with me.

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