It could have been worse but for his music, his voice, his presence.
I wrote that line during a freewriting assignment in the writing class I took back in July. The professor asked us to work from the prompt “It could have been worse but for…” and, of course, my hands automatically penned a piece about Josh Groban and the impact he had on my life oh so many years ago. But as I sat down to gush about last night’s livestream—his first of three over the next three months and dedicated solely to his Broadway album, Stages, I realized how much this line rings true even now—and maybe even more so.
I am the first one to admit many positives sprang from the horrific events that transpired this year: my children haven’t been sick since February (February!!), they have become the best of friends, my husband and I are closer to God than ever before, inspiration has struck from all angles and my writings have really taken off. Those are just a few of the biggies. But for all of that, the toll that 2020 has had on my mental health—and that of my family—is just … well, honestly, I don’t have the words that could possibly do it justice. So, I won’t bother to try. You all know what I’m talking about anyways.
To cope, or maybe even to compensate, we’re all reaching for something, anything that will bring even a brief moment of peace and joy and for me one of those things is (and will always be!) Josh. I’m not going to sit here and rehash the thousands of ways he’s salvaged me over the years (was that a collective sigh of relief I heard from you, dear readers? LOL!), but I will say he never fails to calm my spirit even on the bleakest, blackest of days. He puts the happy in my heartache, a gift for which I am ecstatic and beyond grateful every single day. And while immersing myself in his music and presence doesn’t extinguish the darkness in which we are living, my life, my soul, my mental state would most assuredly be far, far worse without him. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
Before I talk a bit about the show, let me fill you in on the pre-show spread. To commemorate this glorious symphonic occasion, my husband and I decided to go all out and plan a “virtual date night.” (By the way, my husband is a rock star, isn’t he? Always supporting and indulging in my passions alongside me. He probably doesn’t think I notice or even understand how much it means to me, but it is everything. He is everything. I’ve never had anyone to share Josh with and there’s no one on the face of this earth I would choose other than my husband.)
Anyways, because this concert featured Josh’s Broadway album, we figured what better way to celebrate than with wine (a little red, a little white), cheeses (Brie, fontina, goat, fresh mozzarella, and manchego), prosciutto, green olives, red grapes, and homemade bread (my husband whipped up a crusty Italian and a sourdough). Oh, and I baked some mini key lime pies for dessert! Are we sophisticated or what?! As we sat there watching in our comfy cozy stretchy pants, LOL. But, hey, at least we weren’t in our pajamas! 😂
In all seriousness, though, it was the perfect date-night symphony and, honestly, the best part of the evening! There’s just something about wine, cheese, and bread that speaks to me of elegance and grandeur, things that really don’t jive within the realm of parenting (or my life in general, haha!). And paired with Josh’s silky-smooth baritone and mellow melodies … it was a little piece of heaven right there in my family room. My husband and I even spent a few minutes before the show reminiscing about our last real date night together. It was Valentine’s Day of this year—you know, before the pandemic hit 
and life was “good.” We were in Manhattan (to see another Josh Groban show, in fact) at a random upscale bar near Radio City Music Hall, drinking expensive wine, chatting about the good ole days of dating, and indulging in the freedom only the Big Apple can offer. And we followed that up with dinner at a lovely French bistro over more wine, fondue, and crepes. It was so luxurious and carefree! That night we weren’t parents at all—we were simply two people out on the town sharing love, laughter, and the most intimate of conversation. It doesn’t get any better than that, does it? Let me tell you, that night takes on a whole new meaning today. I cherish it, truly, and I’m thankful we were able to experience it together before all hell broke loose.
OK, it’s (finally!) show time.
Now, those of you who are actually still reading this post will probably be surprised to read this but last night’s concert didn’t give me the usual ooey gooey touchy feely mushy wushy feelings I normally get when I indulge in my Josh. Shocking, I know!! That’s not to say I didn’t thoroughly enjoy myself, though. Even if Josh were to crash and burn on stage, I would be here telling all of you how awesome and amazing and wonderful he is. And how much I need him in my life right now. But a few things really struck me about last night’s show:
- I absolutely adore Broadway and Broadway showtunes, and Josh’s renditions of some of the more popular tunes are beautiful and haunting and heartfelt. But those songs just don’t move me in the same way as his original music. Don’t get me wrong, I love his Stages album and when I hear him sing “Bring Him Home” (Les Misérables) or “Evermore” (Beauty and the Beast) or “Someone Else’s Story” (Chess)—as I did last night—the tears well up quickly and my body starts to tingle all over. But when all is said and done, I prefer my classy classic Josh, which is why I’m beyond stoked for his new album, Harmony, which is due out next month. Josh himself even admitted this new album is reminiscent of the old stuff and I’ve never been in more desperate need of my old friend. After all, that’s the Josh I first fell in love with almost two decades ago.
- Josh seemed somewhat off his game. Just a little. Not his voice or the singing, of course, he rarely misses a beat with that. In fact, I would even go so far as to say he sounds far better live than he does on his albums! No, I’m referring to his vibe, his wittiness. It felt slightly lacking last night. Then again, his adorable puppy, Sweeney, went to heaven a few weeks ago and this godforsaken year has sucked beyond belief for everyone; we’re all off our game these days. Not to mention the fact that he was performing in front of a “nonexistent” audience with no interaction or applause, which must feel incredibly weird for a performer. So, this is not a knock on my beloved Josh, it’s simply an observation. No matter the circumstances, he’s always humble and funny and personable and kind and last night was no exception, but I did sense a touch of sadness there, too.
- Josh’s face had a new maturity that I don’t remember ever seeing before. Maybe it’s because he’ll be 40 next year or because this damn pandemic has simply aged everyone. Or maybe it’s because no matter when I see Josh Groban, I always expect to see that same timid, awkward, nerdy kid who captured my heart almost 20 years ago with the song that, to this day, remains my favorite Josh song of all time: “To Where You Are.” But, sadly, that kid no longer exists, and neither does the girl I once was, which makes me incredibly sad. It’s a brutal reminder that life is just so, so fleeting and no matter how hard we try, we can never get those good old days back. Then again, that’s life, isn’t it? We can try to hold onto the youthful optimism of yesteryear but sooner or later time catches up to all of us. We can’t outrun it and we can’t escape it. But we can live each day like it’s our last.
Wow, I fear I’ve gone off on a negative tangent here, which wasn’t my intention at all. I’m simply honest to a fault, even about things that mean the most to me, especially about things that mean the most. And you all know Josh means everything. There’s not a thing I would change about last night—the concert, Josh’s Voice, the Broadway tunes he chose to sing, our luxurious “date night”—everything was perfect. If anything, it just makes Josh more real, more raw, more human to me and I find that irresistibly refreshing and beautiful. He is the symphony through which I live my life and I can’t wait to hear the harmonies he has in store for the next 20 years of our journey together.
I think he himself said it best:
You deserve a symphony
Soaring strings and tympani
But all I have’s this melody
That’s written from my heart
It’s a simple song and the words don’t rhyme
No poetry between the lines
Our symphony will come in time
But all I need to know tonight
Is you’re still mine
— Symphony (written by Josh Groban, Tobias Gad, and Bernie Herms)