To My Secret Boyfriend

Dear Neil,

I went to see your concert last Saturday. Yeah, I was the cute one in section 105. I know you meant to send your personal assistant to me, inviting me to a post show cocktail and kanoodle in your hotel - it probably slipped your mind, what with it being the kickoff of your North American tour and all. I didn't want to show up uninvited, so after the concert I just went home and dreamed of you. I'm sure you dreamed of me too. Oh, I know your old enough to be my dad, but whatever.

I liked hearing the old classics, and I'm sure you opened with Holly Holy just for me. A secret message. A hey, I get you message. That day I really needed someone to "get" me, and without becoming all Killing Me Softly on you, I appreciated your efforts.

I really like your new songs too. Insightful, with much more meat to them than, say, the Forever in Blue Jeans thing you pull for your less intense fans.

Next time you're in town give me a call. Or better yet invite me to your place when your tour is over. We'll sit and drink red, red wine, have a couple of cigs for old time's sake, and you can tell me all about how it feels to be a star. To have been a star for forty years. You can teach me how to articulate through art. You can enlighten me on how to capture the hearts of millions. Then you can commission me to be your sole candle supplier, so every time you look into a flickering flame you'll think of me.

Thanks, Neil, for making me look inside, and knowing it's okay. Call me any time. I'll be home before dark.

Love,

Auntie B