Oh, Massey Hall…

I love you.  No, seriously.  I know that’s not a big shock or anything, but wow.  So much love for you, Massey Hall.  What is it, exactly, you ask?  Well, I love that you are situated on a tiny little street.  That you are barely visible from the larger street.  I love that when I walk into your lobby, you greet me.  No, the ticket-takers and security people don’t greet me, you greet me.  (okay, the nice people that work there do too, but I’m trying to make a point).  You, Massey Hall, greet me like an old friend you are thrilled to see again.  There is a warmth that has nothing to do with the central heating.  I love that I forget my way around once I’m inside, because of the dizzying array of red and carpeting, and the fact that I am beyond excited to see you again.  I love the fact that you have been there, on that tiny street, for an eternity, and the sheer variety of people that have graced your stage throughout the years and that they are, many of them, documented behind glass as newspaper clippings and promotional cards and other items.  Isadora Duncan and Bob Marley.  Not together, exactly, but kind of. 

I love that the stage is a sort of smallish one, and when I am in the front row (like I was last night) the stage is just right there.  In front of me.  Not too high, not too low.  Just perfect.  I love your sound, I love your adjustable seats, and I love – as Jim Cuddy pointed out last night – that “just when you think they can’t make the old hall any better…I see you can now drink in your seats”.  I’m paraphrasing, but that was the gist.

So thank you, Massey Hall.  For still being there, and still welcoming me and all your other guests each night.  Thank you for maintaining your integrity, for steadfastedly holding on to your charm and staying true to your history.  Thank you for the energy you generate throughout each and every show, the energy that stays with me long after you say “Goodnight, and thanks for coming!”

Visiting you is a once in a lifetime experience, every time I walk through the doors.  Every time, it feels like history is being made once more.  And it is.  And I am so, so fortunate to be part of it.

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