My elusive drug?

The other morning, my husband and daughter took to psychoanalyzing me for what they call my “obsession” with Elton John.  Apparently, I am psychologically flawed.

Well, that may be true, but I don’t think it’s because I like/follow/blog about Elton John.  Frankly, in the grand scheme of things, this “obsession” of mine is quite innocuous compared to most, wouldn’t you say?  (Personally, I prefer “ardent admiration” instead of “obsession,” but a rose by any other name…)

And yes, I know the statement “I like Elton John” is a gross understatement.  To say the least.

As I said in a previous post, perhaps the biggest reason I am (still such a) big EJ fan is that he and his music grew up as I did.  And I do listen to and appreciate other music, really I do.  It’s just that no one else’s music will ever touch me the way Elton’s has.  Period.

And, as my sister so eloquently put it in her post about the most recent concert we shared, “to watch him perform with commitment and gusto as if no moment should be taken for granted,” well, that’s a great reminder to us all.  And, arguably, another reason that my obsession (I mean, my ardent appreciation) has intensified over the last few years.  Truly, how much longer is he going to be doing this?  Oh, don’t even go there, Kimoreena.

It’s been reassuring to find out (through Facebook, the Rocket Club and other resources) that there are many others out there like me, all around the world – many of whom have seen him in concert way more times or know the lyrics and back stories better than I.  My humble little blog is but a drop in the bucket.

Anyway, psychological flaws or not, being an Elton aficionado is who I am.  Take me or leave me.  Like it or not.

And, quoteth Bernie as I must…this Elton John fan is still standing…and feeling better than I ever did.

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