For the main Open Letter to Michael McDonald, click here.
Dear Mike, Mr. White Lightning,
I know you didn't see me walk into the catering hall backstage at the PNC Bank Arts Center last night, but I saw you.
I saw you in your summer hat, hunched over your dinner plate, in the farthest seat from the door, white hair beaming from under that hat.
Maybe you heard me gasp, because you got up from your seat as my eyes widened, trying to keep my cool. I was getting a pre-show VIP tour, and as I was introduced to one of the crew members, I looked away from you. When I looked back, you were gone.
The next time I saw you was when you were on stage, looking more confident than last December, hiding behind your keyboard's piano-like case but occasionally emerging to rock the accordion, banjo or ukelele.
Oh Michael, if only you were so confident being the star you are.
After the show ended, I never saw you again, even when I returned backstage. But I will find you again, and one day we will meet.
Your faithful correspondent,
When you sing, you make everything better. Christmas music, "Lowdown," Steely Dan...But why oh why will you not play "Peg" with Donald Fagan while you tour the country together??
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