Born again at Barley's

I felt like a kid.

I always do whenever I hear RobinElla. Her sweet, gentle voice speaks to my soul, takes me back to something ethereal and honest.

But I was particularly giddy last night at Barley's. After Robin's first set ended, my sister stands up from the table. She grabs her camera.

"Come on. We're going to get your picture taken with her."

I make excuses, remembering the time I couldn't think of one solitary word to say to actor Tom Selleck, when I met him in New York. But who can resist a beautiful woman wearing a necktie and a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt? More importantly, who can say no to your sister?

So up we go. Robin is talking to someone at the bar. We linger a moment. My sister taps her on the shoulder.

"Can I take your picture with my brother? He's a big fan."

"Sure," RobinElla says.

I grin like a schoolboy. "I'm a big fan," I say.

She smiles. "Well, thank you for coming out, and thanks for being such a big fan."

We mug it up for my sis. I'm floating somewhere above cloud nine.

"Thank you," I say. "You all are wonderful."

Robin thanks us again and walks away.

I somehow make it to the back of the room and wait eagerly for the second set.

Robin has the voice of an angel. I could listen to her read names out of the phone book, while CC and the band play in the background.

She doesn't sing one of my favorites tonight, Nanci Griffith's "Love at the Five and Dime." In RobinElla's hands, that song becomes something akin to a religious experience.

But I don't notice until later. I'm lost in the music.

"What's that song you want to hear?" my sis asks.

"Teardrops."

So she yells for it.

"We can do that one," Robin says. And she does.

My only disappointment comes when it's time to go. I never lose my grin, or the feeling that I'm 10 years old again, discovering life for the first time.

Because that's what listening to RobinElla is like --- being, if you'll forgive the expression, born again.