The Days Of Vegas J. Clearwater & Francis J. Kidd

July 29, 1996

                                     Tonight I stop in at one of Francis' shows. One thing we didn't do often was go to each other's concerts. Not for any specific reason, it's just that, as fellow musicians we've kind of seen all that the other has to offer musically. Once you've performed with someone for a number of years, you sort of know the root of their musical integrity. 

                                    But even with every show we opened or closed, every seat filled, every ticket taken, there was still something inspiring about seeing the one you love in front of the stage, knowing every lyric before it's sung. For a pair of singers, it was like renewing your faith in one another.

                                   And tonight we continued this strange little ritual, as I stood in the front row and watched Francis, clad in black jeans and a tight black tank top, bringing his new voice and his new lyrics to another audience. One of the spotlights passes over the audience and his eyes meet mine.

                                 For only a brief second, Francis reaches out and brushes my cheek with his fingertips and I lean into his touch before he heads down the line to high-five some fans. Just like that, faith was renewed one more time.

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