The infamous high school excuse to clearly do something you didn’t want your parents to know was always “I’m going to the library”. And so, on that rainy night in late September, I got on the El headed for The Tower Theatre in Upper Darby all by my lonesome. I dressed in all black with my hair moussed into a swoop and combed over to the right. I wore a long frayed raincoat, black, but faded in color almost to a green. The crowd was fairly young and I recognized absolutely no one. All I needed to see took the stage in a ferocious roar, all aglow with fiery vocals. Annie Lennox and Eurythmics. I was mesmerized at once by her enchanting coos and moans, skillfully keeping the 2000ish sold out crowd in a rapture. As the concert drew to a close, I had to get as close to the stage as possible. If I could just touch her, I would somehow be redeemed, resplendent in her aura of soulful energies. As the Finale “Sweet Dreams” purred to a climax, I reached the stage and frantically waved my outstretched hand to meet her leather boot. Suddenly, she looked at me and, as if singing directly to me, the band vamped and she shouted, “DON’T PUSH ME CAUSE I’M CLOSE TO THE EDGE! I’M TRYING NOT TO LOSE MY HEAD!”, emitting her best Grand Master Flash. That night, as I prepared for sleep, I gently stroked the picture of Annie I had ripped from the Us Magazine and told myself, if I never go to another concert, I can certainly rest knowing I had encountered the power of Annie Lennox.