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One particularly moody afternoon, I decided to opt out of a family activity--probably some event where they didn't allow ripped up t-shirts worn over fishnet. I rifled through my stepfather's record extensive collection for something to throw on the record player while I painted my nails black and came across Tom Waits' Heart of Saturday Night album.

I had no idea who this guy was or what kind of music he played, but the cover art was as dark as my mood. Perfect.

Heart of Saturday Night album cover

With the first sultry piano chords of "New Coat of Paint" I was hooked. I put my black nail polish down and gave the music my full attention. The slow, driving beat underneath Waits' whiskey-voice transported me to a place where I wasn't an awkward 14-year old. I imagined myself in his seductive nighttime world. I sensed the heat and the opportunity and the regrets. I saw the "bloodshot moon in the burgundy sky".

For one brief moment, I felt grown-up. The music made me feel self-assured and a little wicked. Yup, I felt cool.

And like a crackhead, I kept going back for that high. Every time I had the chance, I'd put the record on the player and inhale the walking bass lines, the shuffling snare, the fat piano chords and the smoky poetry depicting a steamy Saturday night.

I eventually discovered other Tom Waits albums and bought most of them. With each new song, my world expanded a little bit more. His experiments with obscure melodies and complicated rhythms aren't always easy to get your mind around. Whether it's jazz, blues, folk, country, spoken word or something entirely unique, he challenges the listener with imagery that lifts you away from where you are and drops you into the middle of his brilliantly crafted vision.

Tom Waits is in no way easy listening. From what I can tell, he's never worked for a sound that's traditionally beautiful, although several of his tunes have spent time on mainstream radio stations. Bruce Springsteen's version of Waits' "Jersey Girl" introduced a new audience to his music and even Rod Stewart made it to #2 on the charts with "Downtown Train".

Waits can make even Rod Stewart cool

As if Bruce Springsteen wasn't already cool enough

Considering what an impact Tom Waits' music has had on me over the years, I still hadn't seen him live until last week in Asheville, NC. That nearly didn't happen, though, because the Fates were conspiring against me at every turn.

It began when I couldn't get through on the website or the phone when the tickets went on sale. All seats sold out within about a half an hour and I came up with nothing. I was desperate, so I took advantage of some connections I have "in the business", but didn't get confirmation on my tickets until 2 days before the show. By then, I'd resigned myself to the fact that I would never see Tom Waits play live. (sniff)

I literally shrieked when I read the email that I had 2 seats reserved for the Asheville concert. (The patient people in my office are used to my frequent outbursts of silliness.) Thank god there wasn't much time to wait before the day of the show because the anticipation almost killed me. It was like frickin' Christmas!

Even on the day of the show, the Fates still refused to let this be easy for me and we didn't leave Knoxville until about 6:15pm for an 8:00pm curtain. As if the late hour wasn't stressful enough, we hit torrential rain right in the middle of the mountains. Even though I couldn't see beyond the "diamonds on my windshield", I was determined to get us to the show. I knew we were going to be late, but told my friend I'd be happy just seeing Waits play one song. (Granted, that would be one expensive song at $75 per ticket!)

Finally, the visibility improved and we sped the rest of the way to Asheville. It was 8:20pm by the time we approached Thomas Wolfe Auditorium. My heart lept when I saw hordes of people still standing outside smoking and talking. The show hadn't started yet! We picked up our envelope at the will-call window and made our way to our seats (which were fabulous, by the way.). I felt like Charlie holding the Golden Ticket.

We weren't in our seats five minutes before the house-lights dimmed and the audience started to applaude. The stage-lights went down. The upstage scrim was lit low and from behind so the band members cast enormous shadows on the fabric just before they stepped onstage. When I saw Tom Waits step in front of the light and cast his most impressive shadow, I was paralyzed. At the first strains of "Singapore", I had tears in my eyes and had to cover my mouth with my hands since I wasn't able to close it.

Standing there in utter amazement, slack-jawed and on the verge of crying, I'm pretty sure I was the biggest dork in the place--and somehow that was alright. Oh so many years ago, Tom Waits made me feel like a grown-up. Last week, he made me feel like a kid. I felt cool both times.