Yes indeed, you are one handsome man.
Yes, you have rocked my world many a times,
mostly on my scrub-the-kitchen floor days.
But you just celebrated your 49th birthday.
That makes you 15 years older than I.
So listen.
I've been doing a lot of thinking,
but sorry, honey, you're just too old for me.
Shh, please don't cry.
Really, it's for the best.
And, besides, we have both been happily married for many years
with kids of our own.
It would never work out between us.
In fact, my studly man brought me to see you on Tuesday.
I was excited. Only slightly.
As were thousands of other adoring fans to your sold-out show.
Yes, my man delivered.
And so did you!
You made good on your promise to play some new stuff and some old stuff.
I particularly loved your rendition of
Hallelujah.
Still, I wish you would have played one of my favorites,
Bed of Roses.
Many are surprised to learn that underneath my softer exterior
I'm a true rocker.
I can't help it--I think I was born that way.
Or made that way by older rock-loving brothers.
Give me
Pat Benatar,
Led Zepplin,
Def Leppard,
Van Halen,
Whitesnake,
Janis, etc.
all the oldies, any day of the week.
Sorry, let's face it Jon, you're right up there with them--an oldie.
But, that doesn't mean I love you any less.
Everyone knows Jon Bon is the Bom-Bom.
It just means we are growing old together.
That should give you some consolation, right?
So I can check off one box on my Bucket List.
Perhaps we will rendezvous again
next time you are in town,
or I'm in yours.
Hopefully then I will get a closer seat.
Until then,
adieu.
