Don't Stop Believin'

I've been floating on air since seeing Olivia Newton-John in concert last night. There I sat, nine rows back from the stage and my celebrity girlfriend of some 35 years. It was our anniversary!

Sure, my wife, Donna, a sporting, brave lass, knows about our special love, although I am still waiting for Olivia to get back to me on that. Since the songbird lady was married recently, I may have to be patient until after all their Thank You notes go out.

I am not particularly mellow, no. Never have been.

I've watched and heard Olivia sing five times around Atlanta: the new Cobb Energy Centre on Tuesday, three summer nights in the Chastain Park Amphitheatre, and the 1981 spectacular at the Omni arena. That was the "Let's Get Physical" event.

I still possess my "World Tour" collector's t-shirt. I considered wearing it to yesterday's show, pulling the garment out of the closet to discover someone had altered the text to "Let's Get Geritol."

I shall interrogate Donna. When I get the nerve.

I'd better go take my supplements.
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