You know, when you’re young and you watch your favorite movie, you play for the next three hours as if you were a certain character living the scenes from the film. You repeat the dialogue over and over, don a cape and frolic around the house with that glimmer of youthful exuberance in your eyes. All of this behavior comes from a pure excitement from the experience of the movie; you just don’t want to let that excitement stop, so you relive it as best you can.

Well, my movie wasn’t on the big screen. It wasn’t even just on the stage. It was in my mind, projected onto the worldly screen through my eyes. The whole day was quite a production. I followed the stage crew and Theatre staff all day long to see the development of a big show, which just happened to be Jason Mraz, a musician who I have listened to and enjoyed for years.

Fast forward to sound check. Here is where the plot really got good... well, at least through my eyes.

“Love will never be lost on me…” Jason sang, going back and forth with the band on perfecting the sound to be revealed to an audience of swooning girls later in the evening.

It came to a point where I was sitting in the very last row of the Theatre and I took a look around to find I was the only one sitting in the audience. In fact, the only other people in the Theatre at all were the sound technician and the band. I took the liberty upon myself to just regard this here as a private concert. Or at least that is what I plan on telling everyone later.

“It only gets better,” Jason sang. To these foreshadowing lines, I cracked a smile. I sometimes like to think I am an intuitive person, and something just told me he had hit the nail right on the head with that one. The day would only get better. I felt quite smug with myself at this point, so I simply sat back in my chair to just relax in this moment and breathe in the music.

The music was at that just-loud-enough level to where you can still stand to listen, but you feel it reverberate in your body. It is music you not only feel in the sentimental sense of the word, but you actually feel it beat through your chest like a second heartbeat, a new rhythm of life.

It was the kind of music to which you just want to close your eyes and shake your head ever so slightly from side to side, with the intention of silently saying, “Damn, that’s good.”

It is an interesting sensation — the experience of a live band, one that you really appreciate. You begin a relationship with their music, which will grow as you become more attached to certain songs, certain lyrics, certain intonations in a voice. And if it is something really special, listening isn’t just listening anymore. It becomes more. It becomes the chill down your spine. It is the goose bumps on your arms. It becomes that clarity in your mind, or that feeling… that feeling that reverberates through your chest. Then to experience all this live, in front of your face, now that’s a beautiful thing.

The day did get better as I had expected. I not only got to see a great show in the evening, but that was after I got to spend the evening with the band and their crew, all of whom were just as kind and enjoyable as can be.

Now I find myself a few days after the concert singing certain songs over and over, replaying the experience in my head and frolicking around the office with that youthful exuberance in my eye, minus the cape of course. It is that exact childhood feeling that you just don’t want to let go.

As the days go on the excitement will fade, but that is the beauty about movies, especially this one. I can just close my eyes, flip to some Mr. A-Z on the iPod, and watch the day replay….