Bruno Mars Concert

American Airlines Arena, Miami, FL.

Dear Bruno,

I fell in love with you last Friday night in Miami.

But don’t worry. It’s not what you think. I’m not a stalker. And I’m not (too) crazy.

I’m just a 47 year-old (happily married) mother of a teenage daughter.

My daughter is 14 and just started high school. She’s at that age where well, let’s just say she’s a teenager. And, of course, a girl.

So anything that she wants me to do with her, like go to a concert, I try to do. A few months ago, much to the chagrin of some of my peers, I took her to see Big Sean perform. She was thrilled and I liked sharing something with her that made her so happy.

When my kid said she wanted to go see you for her birthday present, I was really, really excited.

The difference with you was that I really wanted to see you in concert as well. A couple of years back, I saw you on the Grammys and since then, I’ve been taken with your talent, your style, and yes, your moves.

We didn’t have the best seats at the concert. We didn’t buy our tickets early enough so we were relegated to the not quite nosebleed seats.

But it didn’t matter. You, and your band, had us up on our feet for most of the concert.

You rocked every single song. From “Moonshine” to “Marry You” to “Grenade”.

Your voice.

Your moves.

Your band.

Your moves. (Swoon.)

You were funny and charming and sexy.

And just when I thought the concert couldn’t get any better, you came out for your encore banging on the drums. I have a thing for drummers. Especially those that are a quarter Jewish. Dates back to my college years. But I digress.

You segued in to “Locked Out of Heaven” and ended the show with “Gorilla”.

Wow.

I’m not embarrassed to say I blushed a little bit when I felt that last song resonate in my loins. (Yes, I used that word.) Must have been the the part about having a fistful of hair or your use of the phrase “dirty little lover”. Phew.

And I’m not one to crush on celebrities. Music wise, well, Dave Grohl has been my man for a few years. He’s a true musician. Writing songs, playing instruments, not lip synching and giving amazing live performances.

But now I’m going to have to ask him to slide over a little bit and make some room for you. Because you’re the same kind of musician. The real deal.

You are one talented motherfucker.

So, yeah, this is a love letter.

Because I love anybody that brings my daughter and I closer together.

And I loved the concert.

Thanks for being you. For being such an original and talented entertainer. And for putting on one hell of a show.

My kid and I gushed so much about you and the concert that my husband says he wants to see you perform also. I hope we get to see you again soon.

Love,

Jen


 

PS My commenting software has gone awry. Feel free to leave comments on the Life’s Dewlaps Facebook page or email me at dewlapsblog@gmail.com.

Top panoramic image courtesy of Julia D. Cullen