It would be awfully difficult to match the swagger of 69-year old Elton John, who I watched rock the piano in Toledo like he was still in the 1970s.

Boy can that man sing, too. He belted out so many soulful, emotional songs that my glasses were constantly being wiped clean. I miss my dog so much, and I found myself singing with every ounce of heart.

So many legendary ballads. Philadelphia Freedom. I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blues. Tiny Dancer. Candle in the Wind. Daniel. Levon. Sad Songs. Bennie & the Jets. Crocodile Rock. Your Song. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting. Bitch Is Back. It was just him for three plus hours, and after every extended version he’d stand up to a raucous ovation and point to every part of the arena. His energy and enthusiasm in his gold and silver sequined suit was truly out of this world… Rocket Man.

I think John sheds every stereotype about what a man’s supposed to be. He dresses so stylishly, plays piano so hard, sings so strongly, doesn’t give a fuck about his sexual orientation, is kind and loving and thoughtful both in his lyrics and his personality. He stopped halfway though and thanked the crowd sincerely in his British accent. He said he’s having more fun than ever, and it was visceral in his enjoyment of the concert. I don’t think anyone else was having more fun.

A big thank you to my mom and brother who accompanied me. We were talking to a girl we met about how lucky it is to share it with our parents at this point in Elton’s career. Pretty rare to see someone so old still swagging so hard without being an aging hipster. Thanks, G.