Today I feel a little like Sonny and Cher (when they were still in love, of course). Like Neil Diamond who has somehow roped Shakira into his act. Like Johnny Cash when he finally knew that June Carter was his forever.
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Yep, this morning I’m the small town singer who gets a call from U2 saying they want me on tour as the opening act. “Who, me?” I ask. “Yes, you,” they reply. It appears that all I’ll need is a really cool outfit and a little sparkly eye shadow.
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Why, you wonder? Perhaps because hands have been shaken, papers signed, a humungous deposit put down. The landowner’s promise has been transformed into legal documents of the most official kind. The land – the one with the beautiful olive trees is ours – or almost anyways. No way for the landowner to back out unless he pays an amount equivalent to a year or two’s salary on top of our deposit. We’re one major step closer to our dream house.
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So can you see why our agent (that would be me) thinks our record is finally going gold….. ?
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It’s enough to make me SiiiiiNG while break dancing. I am pure Abba. I feel giddy. I’ve got Coldplay surging through my veins. I feel happy, so, so happy.
