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.