Such a thoughtful reader!

True confessions for this Tuesday:

1) The only thing I share with Martha Stewart is my last name.

(In other words, I do not cook and am essentially leary of kitchen creating.)

2) I do not eat fish (but Brad loves it).

3) The closest thing I've ever come to sushi is this sushi dipping dish:

Turns out, it has been of great influence. Though I bought it with the intention of using it to store my rings while doing the dishes, it wound up being the basis for my entire kitchen color palette. My kitchen walls are a lovely terra cotta color. I've used the cranberry and olive for accents. Kind of wild for me...(is that another confession?)

But, I digress.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about what I'll be up to this summer. In it, I included plans for a sushi making night. My blogfriend Agnes who lives in California sensed I was skittish about this Asian creation, so she sent me these adorable pictures of her baby Courtney with sushi to encourage me:

"Making sushi is fun Auntie Ellie!"

Then, to encourage me even more, Agnes put together a box of sushi making delights and mailed it to me. I cannot explain how tickled I was to receive this. I love getting mail! It arrived on Saturday.

The party is going to be at my friend Jeanette's house, so I decided to take the package to church on Sunday to open it with Jeanette:

(Agnes, you have to know I love you from afar, because this is an AWFUL picture of me, but I'm posting it anyway!)

We opened it right after I was finished teaching the baptism class. My students (and friends) Steve and Linda stuck around to see.

I think Jeanette was even more excited than I was to see each treasure unwrapped. Agnes sent chopsticks, a sushi mat, seaweed wraps (no, not the body pampering type), wasabi (an essential according to assembled on-lookers), miso soup mix, and two sushi plates. Jeanette was really thrilled to see those.

Wow! Wow! Wow!

So my initial plans of making candy sushi have been eclipsed.

All thanks to Agnes, a blog reader and friend I have yet to meet.

I am amazed sometimes by the kindness in this world.

Thank you Agnes!

Check back after July 10th to see pictures of these gifts put to good use!

Guilty Pleasures?

Okay, this week's question of the week will be followed by a post full of my answers. But I want to get yours without you being influenced by mine.

Here it is: What are some of your guilty pleasures?

You know, things that are silly in theory or a little bit tacky, but still bring you great joy?

Food, a television show, a wussy wine when you're usually a wine snob, a pastime, an author whose books are mind candy...

Right in my own backyard...

The verse in the Bible that best describes me is

2 Corinthians 5:17. It speaks of becoming a "new creation" when one accepts Christ. When I became a Christ Follower less than a handful of years back, there were moments I'd look in the mirror and think,

"Who IS this person?"

Then, I would laugh in wonder and delight at the changes He brought about in me and the things He was having me do. Friends who have remained open to me might say I am the same but very much different than I was a few years back.

I've had many experiences, both large and small, in these years as a new thing that make my head spin and my heart open broader. Things that if you had told me years ago I'd be a part of, I would have laughed at for other reasons.

Today held one of those experiences.

Brad and I went to the Billy Graham Museum at Wheaton College. It was, and I'm using a word I try to use only for God stuff,

awesome.I have to admit, I thought the museum itself would be a little hokey (I still harbor some of my more skewed judgments about such "organized religious" things.)

However, it was incredibly well done. The many displays tell the story of evangelism in America, from the first white settlers on through the centuries. About halfway through, we meet Billy and his parents, their history is shared, and then his story is told. For my friends who think I get too into God sometimes, that's what it's called, a story.

Every follower has one.

It's the moment or series of moments in time when it becomes apparent that God is for you:

From his story came so much. Billy Graham seems to be the most humble of God's servants, yet God has used him to touch and to stir so many people.

I can't help but marvel at his influence, and as Brad often points out, marvel about the man God used to bring Billy to Him.

Does he know the measure of his influence?

I took lots of snaps, but this one was important. This is a well known verse, and when Brad heard it as a boy, the minister who was speaking said those gathered should personalize it.

So Brad did,

"For God

so loved Brad

that he gave his one and only Son,

that Brad who believes in Him

shall not perish

but have eternal life."

When Brad did this, God was undeniable to him. This is part of Brad's story.

Try it. Insert your name.

Such a comfort isn't it?

Brad has been a Follower his since he was a child, I have only started. We each were drawn to different displays and each moved by different events and words. We had good discussions; we each learned today.

Happy Birthday Alice

(Alice Elizabeth Weed class of 1949, Allen Vance Stewart class of 1945)

I woke up this morning wanting to honor my mom with a blog post as today would have been her 77th birthday. When I discussed this with Brad, he said,

"Well, no matter how old you become, you are still a daughter."

I am her daughter, and with that I hope I honor her every day of my life.

Words for a Wednesday

God,

use me.

It's Not Easy Being Green

I used disposable diapers.

Eventually I came across some more easily biodegradable disposables, but still...

There. I've confessed. Okay, so Mac was born almost 23 years ago, but I still feel the need to air that dirty not-laundry. Lucky you, eh?

Out of my new mommy guilt, in so many other ways I was a green earth mom (breastfeeding being the biggie), I decided to see if I could offset the horrific affront I was making to this environment. So I started some research.

Greenpeace? No way, you think they're militant now? (They are!) But they were militant then too, bordering on near murderous acts. Read about them, they go way beyond ethical when they make an effort to save a whale.

Anti-nukes, yep, got involved in that too, but soon that problem was taken care of (for the time being) by our established government. Supposedly the Arms Race was called off.

So what's a young mama to do?

I recycled.

Like a fiend.

The effort in the town I lived it at the time was grassroots, and I jumped on that bandwagon, or truly, recycling wagon. I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say, after two decades of green--

if it can be made into something new, even if I'm far from home, I'm hard-pressed to throw whatever it is into the trash.

When my friends met Brad, they asked him, "You do recycle don't you?" His response, "I guess I do now!" And he does (it's catching!)

So...

My latest effort, one I've been wrangling with for over a year now is reusable shopping bags. I used to bag my newspapers in paper bags, thus recylcing them, but now hardly any stores offer than option. (Remember "paper or plastic?") I was recycling the plastic ones by returning them to the store, but then I learned they are often shipped halfway around the world to be processed. I wondered, does the fossil fuel for said shipping counteract the fossil fuel saved by reworking the bags?

I switched to reusable bags.

More wondering, do I need a matching bag for each store? At Jewel they don't care if they throw things in Dominick's bags, but at Dominick's they once gave Brad more Dominick's bags so they didn't have to use Jewel bags. (Hm, they're both union run stores with workers making a living wage, I mean it's not like he offered them a Wal-Mart bag...but I digress.)

The hard part is remembering to put them in the car when I'm heading to out to shop.

The harder part is remembering to bring them into the store.

But I'm getting there.

And they are not wind proof.

Further evidence of my wanting zealousness comes in a story from the first time I used them. Yes, I remembered to put them in the car before driving to the store. Yes, I remembered to bring them from the car to the store. Then as I was walking into the store a car honked at me. The driver pulled along side me, rolled down her window and called out, "You dropped a bag!" Said bag quickly started to blow away, so I ran after it and stomped on it.

Got that one.

Then I saw another dropped bag (how did I do that?) skitter under a huge van. I ran to the other side to catch it. I mean, I couldn't litter with a bag meant to save the environment, right? It didn't come out the other side.

I got down on my hands and knees to look for it.

The bag was seemingly stuck under the van, twisted somehow to the front tire. I couldn't just leave it there. One it would be littering, and two, what if the lovely anonymous driver unknowingly drove off with a canvas bag wrapped around his wheel and got into a horrible accident?

I had to decide, should I try to crawl under the van and grab it or wait for the van's owner to come out? Whilst mulling this over, another swift breeze picked up, and I caught the bag, not literally but out of the corner of my eye, dislodged by the wind and billowing away from the van and toward Payless. I ran after it, dodging traffic and all the while holding onto (I hoped) my other half dozen bags. Finally, past Payless and in front of Hallmark, the wind halted, and I was able to stomp my foot a few times, finally capturing the bag's handles with my heel. I would have captured it with my first stomp had I not been so winded from laughing at myself.

Ellie breathlessly saves the world!

Sort of.

Summer Song?

Question for this week, the seed being planted by my son, is:

What's your favorite summer song?

Mine is "Summer in the City," by the Lovin' Spoonful. When it came out, I think when I was six or seven, I thought it was a song about Chicago. What other city was there? It's still such an evocative tune.

I also like, "Ride Captain Ride," and "Close to You," because they remind me of summer. Before we had central AC, I used to sleep on the floor in my older brothers' room (they had a good fan). They'd fall asleep with their FM (woo-hoo, eh?) stereo radio on, and those were two songs I always looked forward to hearing each night. Now, if I hear them and it's not summer, they seem so out of place.

A little Father's Day memory

We had a super nice day. My friend Mara was in from Iowa, so we all went to church at the temple. Then we zipped over to the Yellow Box to see my new friend Cortney be baptized--

yay God! (What a great day to accept Jesus as her leader!)

After that it was lunch at Corner Bakery with Jeanette, Brad's "adopted" daughter and Mara. My girlfriends hit it off--Jeanette left us asking when Mara would be back again. Not until December, sigh.

Brad received a lovely email, a photo video on-line and phone message from his kids. I know he misses them but each communication made his day!

Two Dad Stuffs

First Dad Stuff of the day:

Photos

Of course, I think of my dad this weekend (I think of him daily), and so I decided not to allow my lack of scanner expertise stop me from sharing these two photos. On the left, Big Al, my daddio, class of 1945. On the right, Mac, class of 2004. People tell me I resemble my dad and Mac resembles me. I do see a lot of my dad in Mac.

Eyes and lips mostly, but also they were at this age both tall and slender in build. My dad had curly hair (where I got mine), and Mac's, though always short, has the same wave.

These two guys adored each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Second Dad Stuff:

Mac's Dad

I rarely refer to Rich as "my ex-husband" or "my first husband." He is always, in my heart, thoughts, and expressions "Mac's dad." In the last two decades, because I don't use the word husband about him, a few people have asked me, "Were you ever married to Mac's dad?" Yes, I was, a long time ago. But it seems most honoring to Rich, a good man, to refer to him in the role that has most shaped his life, being the father of our son. He has fulfilled it well.

Happy Father's Day, Rich.

Fun(ny) Photos Friday

Brad and I went to see Hillsong United at Willow Creek Stadium, I mean Church, last Wednesday night. We went along with our friends Tina, Judah and Mike who gladly smiled for this pic.Though we were sitting right next to our pals, I went the inexplicible route of attempting to snap our own photo and the result was this: Gotta say, I like it of myself, but Brad looks like he's talking. Um, because he was... He decided he could do a better job, so he snapped about five of us himself. This was the last one, and by this time I was laughing, but not as hard as when I turned the camera around to view Brad's sinus canal: So I gave up, and I snapped some more pics of the venue. Right before the lights dimmed, I thought I'd try for one more of us. Oops, forgot to disengage the zoom...

On with the show!

THE best Christian concert I've been to.

Great worship and good teaching, while surrounded by friends I know and those I've yet to meet!

My neighbor's blog

My neighbor Debbie is on a nearly three-week-long visit to the Philippines with CCC and Frontline ministry. I've attached her blog to mine, http://www.deborahbenjamin.blopgspot.com/.

Change your day, read one of her postings.

(Note, if this link doesn't work, scroll down on the left side here and click on

"It's all about the journey.")

Words for Wednesday

My friend Pam sends me daily "minute meditations" via Email. They originate with a Brother from Benedictine University. This one "got" me, and I thought I'd share it.

Follow Jesus.

It’s that simple. He knows you better than you know yourself. He knows everything else, too. Leave the divine orchestration to him. He doesn’t call you to impossible tasks. He has been fitting you to serve him your whole life long. The ability you were born with; the talents you have developed; the experiences you have had; the gifts he has bestowed on you through his Holy Spirit—he harmonizes all of them so that you can give him glory.

“Jesus, I believe you love me and have good things planned for me. Help me to hear your voice and follow you today.”

Shoetastrophes

On Sunday, I wore these to church. Yep, they are adorable; I love how they tie around my ankles, so cute! (I bought them, I didn't design them, so it's okay to say that, right?)

Anyway, it was fun to be taller for the day. Yesterday, Brad came into the bathroom to kiss me good-bye before leaving to work out. He said he preferred Sunday when he didn't have to bend so far to kiss me. I replied, "I tend to not wear espadrilles in the shower. Do you know how much water jute soles can absorb?" Not such a strange question to ask, since I know the answer. Back in the 90's, I was caught wearing espadrilles when it started to rain at some unremembered summer fest. Though they were flats, those slip-ons sucked up the water from every puddle I even stood near. It was like having a slough enveloping each foot. I swear, they took on ten times their weight in water and sloshed with each step for the rest of the day. Being somewhat broke at the time (college student/mom), I tried to salvage them (what was I thinking?) They never quite fully dried out--their original quarter inch thick soles "dried" to a thickness of an inch after a couple weeks of air time.

Shoes ruined.

Remembering that shoescapade made me recall two other distinct moments of shoewrecking.

The first happened in middle school. I opted to walk to Walgreen's before going home. Mom was fine with this plan. As it turned out, what she wasn't fine with was the short cut I took across a field in March, a thawing field that swallowed up my new tan and brown suede saddle shoes once I was halfway (no turning back) across. I literally lost each shoe in the mud dozens of times, step by step: reaching back to retrieve the one that had been pulled off my foot, balancing on the foot that was mired, stepping back into the retrieved shoe, sojourning forward a stride, and repeating the process for each step all the way across the field. It was nearly dark by the time I escaped the field and got to the store. I am certain I left a sloppy trail of goo on their tile floors. Once I got home, I learned that all the suede cleaner in the world and a stiff wired brush can only do so (not) much.

Shoes ruined.

The most recent case was so not my fault. Shortly before I met Brad, I had a first (with a to stay unnamed man) dinner date at Oakbrook Center. I was a little almost late, and I hate even the thought of being late, so I was running in my cherished black, kitten heel slides. One of those little heels got caught in a sidewalk crack which pulled the shoe off my foot. So I stopped, and I laughingly attempted to slide my toes back in between the thong. Um, the crack hadn't pulled my shoe off, it pulled it apart. There was no longer a thong, no longer a top of the shoe. I hobbled into the restaurant laughing, my torn asunder shoe's pieces in hand. I guess the guy was slightly amused (not nearly as entertained as I), but it didn't turn into a "we met so cute" story.

That's okay, I was far more bummed about losing my go-to-summer evening shoe than a date that went nowhere.

(P.S. Enter Brad, man of my dreams, about three weeks later.)

So, true confessions for a Tuesday.

My shoes live in fear of me...

This one is so easy...come play along!

A facebook status by my friend Debra, just made me think of this question of the week.

Simple enough...

What's your favorite thing about summer?

If it's too hard to choose just one thing, list as many as you'd like, and we'll all be happy thinking about what to savor this season!

I...

There are so many of these list things on the Net, but I saw this one on my friend Agnes's blog, Raising A & C, and she sweetly invited her readers to do it, so...

I am...a Christ Follower

I want...hot days

I have...a great job

I wish...being tan was healthy

I know...God has a plan for me

I hate...litter(bugs)

I fear...not

I hear...rain

I crave...even more snuggles

I search...for the good in others

I always...tell Brad and Mac "I love you"

I usually...talk too much

I am not...as organized as people think

I miss...dad and mom

I love...my men

I never...yell (anymore)

I rarely...curse

I cry...less than I'd like

I lose...people I love

I should...help others more

I worry...about little

I dream...of thinner thighs

I was...far from God

I need...less than I have

I can...do more than I let on

Heart Healthy

A couple of months ago, I was invited to teach a class at church right after the weekly Tuesday night support and recovery service. I decided to go early, to sit in on the service, and to my delight my friend Kathy was teaching. Her message was deep and centered on not letting evil take root in our hearts, but I can't quote it here because the strength of the memory from that night has become a word picture I've been using to protect my heart. It stemmed from her lesson, and it has become something God has helped me with, and something He and I still talk about.

Some people have entered my life in recent years, and I will admit, I was drawn to them. My goal was to get to know them, and it would have been nice if they had liked me. They are gorgeous, stylish, talented, and popular people. But after spending some time with me and corresponding with me, they read me the wrong way and attacked me using words that were cruel and were aimed to hurt.

Their words were off target, but caused me to create some careful boundaries. Yet I often felt like I was teetering along the top of a fence when I had to deal with them.

I didn't know how to keep these folks in my life, which seemed necessary, and also keep myself from being in the path of their hateful words, words they shared so flippantly with me. One hates me without really knowing me, and another said mean things but was really "only trying to help me see myself as others do." It seemed, for a while, it didn't matter that my true friends and family see me clearly, I still considered their unkind expressions more than I should have--things they said stayed with me. That in itself bothered me.

That night while Kathy spoke, I understood that time spent thinking of these people and their deeds was choking my heart and it was not pleasing to God.

I came up with a visual of my heart--a beautiful red, perfectly shaped, Hallmark-style Valentine heart. When I allow my thoughts to dwell on these people, or really anything negative, those thoughts become like black crows landing on my heart--their claws like talons that root and burrow into it, choking it first to blue, then a cold dead grey.

A dead grey heart leaves me little to offer others, especially God, in the way of love.

So that night, I pried those claws of my heart as I sat in church. I visualized my heart going from grey to blue, and then reddening. Healthy again, I literally breathed easier.

Now, when I cross paths of any fashion with these people who have a need to hurt, I thank God for helping me protect my heart. They cannot take hold of it.

Don't take this the wrong way...

There is no such thing as a random act of kindness.

--Me

Hiya, Summer!

Today at noon, it's officially summer for me. Finally!

So many friends have asked me what my plans are, I thought I'd share them here.

You'll easily note, nothing lavish, but all good:

1~ First off, lunch at Betsy's with

my fourth grade team/my best school friends!

2~ Over the weeks, meet with friends I haven't seen for a while

(Shannon, Debbie, Camille, and/or LeTroy are you reading this?)

3~ Read three to four books a week for fun--

got a hold list going at the library.

(Mostly fiction, but some that will make me smarter, i.e. some non-fiction)

4~ Tutor--five kids now.

5~Work to adjust my body clock to not

wake me at 5:00 A.M.

6~ Walk three miles a day in prep to run (hahahahahahaha).

Okay, well, walk three miles a day perhaps in prep to walk...

three miles a day.

7~ Get ready for fourth grade

(Eek, I'm freaking, but in a good way).

8~ Get some sun

(I know, I know, it's not healthy).

9~ A mini trip to Michigan in August thanks to facebook.

10~ Christmas in July

(can you tell this list is in random order?)

11~ Sushi night with the girls, making it--not eating it.

(I'm going to make candy sushi, but don't tell them!)

12~Karaoke night with church pals

(I'll just listen...)

13~Refinish a piece of furniture

(Brad's hesitant about this one).

14~Flea market (at least once)!

15~Funnel cake @ flea market--

note to self, do not wear black that day.

16~Ride my bike, you know, just tool around the neighborhood.

17~Digging out the rollerblades--

I'm afraid, very afraid.

18~Clean closets.

That's a thriller, eh?

It is for me, the Queen of Purge.

19~ Most likely, canceling cable TV for the summer--

can you say,

"Netflix, Netflix, Netflix?"

20~Wednesday field trips with Brad--

can't share to where here,

I like to surprise him!

Oh, but tomorrow night we're going to see Hillsong United,

so that counts as #1 on the field trip list.

21~Visit different churches

22~Practice with the settings on my camera.

23~LEARN HOW TO USE OUR SCANNER!

Simple pleasures all.

**********

This poorly scanned photo of Mac was taken in late May of 1987. It was his first time in a wading pool; he was nine months old. Better than the sweet pic, is the memory of my dad and mom sitting on either side of me doting over their little guy. I can feel them with me now!

Coexisting

Our church has been described as a mega-church due to the number of attenders we have. But really, we're a multi-site church, we have a number of campuses (8?) throughout the Chicagoland area.

I attend one of two Naperville locations, and we usually meet at Naperville North High School. In fact, as many of you know, Brad and I were married on the same stage on which my son had performed in dozens of band concerts while a student there.

The high school is undergoing renovations this summer, so leadership had to find new temporary worship digs.

So this summer, starting today, we're meeting here:

We are so appreciative of the folks at the synagogue for opening their home to us. Let me tell you, it was a mighty awesome experience this morning, and a lesson in graciousness we'll appreciate until end of August.

Why did this bug me?

Summer break begins on Tuesday, and on Thursday I start working with the three students I'm tutoring for the next number of weeks.

Today, I went to Border's to get two copies of my favorite children's novel Mick Harte Was Here to read with two of the kids. If you haven't read it, look for it, it's the perfect little book.

Anyway, I was dismayed by how Border's arranges their kids' fiction. It's so fragmented: friendship stories, adventure stories, sports stories, fantasy stories, award winners, classic etc., that I had a hard time figuring out where to look for this book.

Though I looked in every category it might fit into, I never did find it, seems they were all sold out. That's a bummer, but it's not the part that bugs me.

What made me sad, I guess that's the word for it, and what bugs me is how narrow a focus they give to kid readers. How would a child looking for a Matt Christopher book (sports) ever accidentally find himself reading the back of a fantasy book and deciding to buy it when they are shelves away from each other? How would someone assigned to read a classic ever stumble over a current award winner that was just as good but not in the same genre?

As a kid, getting to a bookstore and picking whatever book I wanted was a joy. It was the same for my son. We loved going to stores where the staff had actually read the books and knew what to suggest to stretch us beyond what we'd usually read--Mac was a voracious reader, just like I was when I was a kid, and though he read hours on his own, I read aloud to him all the way through his elementary years.

Obviously they're marketing to sell books, but they're not marketing to READERS.

So, I'm sad.

A letter to my students

Tonight is our annual Honors Night when we celebrate the soon to be moving on fifth graders. Each student is given a golden folder which holds a variety of writing samples from past grades and all writing from this year.

I just finished stuffing each folder with a pennant, their fifth grade writing and the following letter.

(Please forgive the weird blogger lack of indenting and spacing.) June 4, 2009

Dear 5Sers,

In this folder you should find at least one piece of writing from each of your Louise White School years and all of your published writing from this year. I figure since I’m the last teacher to have her hands on this special folder, I might as well fill it up with good stuff!

Last week I spoke with you about this. If you keep anything from fifth grade, besides some good memories, keep much of your writing. Keep writing you think is good. It will be a window to who you are when you read it when you’re older. Keep writing that you think stinks, because you will use it to measure how you improve as a writer.

You are a writer. Remember the best thing about writing. When you write, unlike when you speak, you can edit and revise until you get things just right. Writing lasts, the written word stays on the paper indefinitely, while spoken words often float off in the wind.

This letter is my gift of writing to you enclosed with your gift of writing to yourself. Think of how fun it will to come across this folder when you finish 8th grade, when you’ve graduated from high school, when you and your kids are cleaning your basement some day…They will want to know what you were like as a kid, and your writing will be a treasure to them. You’ll laugh at how sweet you were, and you’ll be touched by what mattered to you as a fifth grader. You’ll be reminded of things you haven’t thought about in a while, and your own writing will stir your heart. Add to this folder each year so you can mark your growth as you travel on through school.

Love your words,

Miss Stewart

Words for all Wednesdays

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you."

Philippians 4:8-9

The message in church on Sunday was about not complaining. The teaching pastor challenged us to go a day, then two, then--well you get it, without complaining. It's tough, but in doing so, we can more easily notice good.

In my earnest but not purely successful efforts over the past few days, it is proving to be true.

How neat is that?

A memorable concert?

Last week, we discussed fads. From Sweetarts to glue on nails, reading your comments made me remember so many moments!

Have I told you I love it when you leave comments?

Agnes mentioned Kurt Cameron (obviously Agnes is younger than I), and I commented back he's still handsome.

She also mentioned Duran Duran, and the memories started ...

When my sister was a tween and I was around 20, my then boyfriend and I took her to see Duran Duran on their Rio tour. They were quite mainstream in the U.K., but they were being billed as a boy band here in the U.S. to get them more attention.

Still, I was astounded at how Beatles-esque the feeling in the auditorium was. Before the show, as the auditorium filled and the roadies set up the stage, the little girls next to me screamed any time the curtain on stage moved. After about 20 minutes of this, I asked if this was their first concert. Being that they were all of 10 or 11, it was. So I told them to be cool, nothing would happen until the lights all went out.

After that, they chilled, and when the lights all went down, the girl closest to me looked up at me. I nodded at her, and she began screaming her head off. So cute!

So this memory, stirred up thanks to Agnes, leads me to this week's question of the week:

What's a memorable concert you've attended?

What's made it stick with you?