Tonight I ordered the escargot, while Tinsley Ellis, a man who seemed to have a certain uncomplex wisdom beyond his years, sang his version of the south Florida blues. I admit that I was skeptical at first, but was pleasantly surprised by the time his first number had ended, an instrumental piece that one could tell was written as more than a simple introductory song.

And while he sang his words with a combination of gruff sincerity and stoic confidence, I sat there. Wondering why sad music can’t make me sad right now. Feeling something I had never felt before.

Lost in a moment of clarity.