Last night, A. and I drove to Easton, Md., to see singer/songwriter David Berkeley play at a tiny venue called Night Cat. We drove an hour-and-a-half each way, over the Chesapeake bridge, so we could sit at round tables in an intimate coffee shop and enjoy a small concert. And wow, it was more than worth the drive.
Berkeley is not only a talented singer, but he’s hilarious. A. and I were both laughing out loud every time he told stories between his songs — including about how he was on a This American Life episode called “Going Big” (which I have listened to and also found uproariously funny).
There were only about 20 people in the dimly-lit room strung with white lights. So when Berkeley asked if anyone had requests, I yelled out “High Heels And All”! A. and I have listened to “High Heels And All” over and over together, and have even analyzed the words. As Berkley played it, I put my hand in A.’s and, a little buzzed off of pumpkin beer, I couldn’t help thinking how happy I was — to be with A., to be on an adventure on a work night, and to be listening to one of my favorite artists.