Stevie Nicks, lead singer, Fleetwood Mac

Hmmm… flight tomorrow at 6 a.m. Do I pack and go to bed early or go see a Fleetwood Mac Tribute Band concert? 

While the “Linda” in me, logical and organized, would decide the practical thing to do would be to get some rest, my “Lola” side, adventurous and spirited, would think nothing of hopping over the unopened luggage and heading out the door. 

A little background on Lola: JC* had told me the story of how I was almost named Lola, after the wife of my dad’s boss. A lovely older woman from Spain, JC was infatuated with her elegance and kindness. In stepped my Latin grandmother, whose dark eyes sparkled when she was happy and burned a hole in you when she was not. Her usual form of soft persuasion convinced JC that Linda, which means “beautiful” in Spanish, was more befitting a baby girl.

This has led to countless hours of me wondering if a different name might have made me a different person. Do you grow into your name or are you who you are regardless of it? And what about the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile? How will it fair after recently being stripped of its signature moniker in the prime of its celebrity status and forced to be called the Frankmobile? 

As I sat at the concert, tapping my feet and singing along, I became lost in the music and all the memories it conjured up, never giving a thought to anything more than that moment. Being free of my usual multitasking and planning felt wonderful, if only for a little while. I wondered why I had waited so long to invite more music back into my life and vowed to check more concert schedules and start playing music during the day. 

Once home, blasting the Fleetwood Mac Greatest Hits CD seemed like the right thing to do, as the background to our task at hand. Interrupted by a favorite song, which led to an impromptu dance together, made packing more fun, even though it took a bit longer. 

Mr. Wiz* and I reminisced about the Fleetwood Mac concerts we had attended. The one where the couple in front of us, who refused to sit down, were escorted out by security, giving us a bird’s eye view of the stage. The one where we especially noticed teenage fans rocking with seniors, whose walkers were parked nearby, all united, in that moment, for the love of the music. 

The morning came too quickly. We looked at each other, winced and then smiled, deciding our slight headaches might actually be worth it. it There was no time to think about anything, but getting out the door. 

Once on the plane, with my eyes closed, I smiled to think of how music has that magical ability to transport you, whether it be the joy that comes from being awakened by the warble of a songbird; the inner peace brought on by a Gregorian chant or the jolt of energy you get from singing a favorite song at the top of your lungs. Turns out the concert that evening was an important reminder to slow down a bit, take some time to tune out the world and savor the music. 

Image by Gregory Sigrist from Pixabay

*Who’s Who? See “cast of Characters” on the “About” page. 

Author’s Note:I
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