Singing the Blues

My friend is going to a concert tonight - to see Elton John and Billy Joel. While I've never been a fan of Billy Joel, I have always loved Elton John. Billy always seemed too.....hmmm........American for my tastes. Too working class hero. Too - well - just too American.
Elton, on the other hand, he was a mystery to me and I loved him.
Back in the 1970s I was alive and well but a kid - not really aware of what was going on around me but watching it nonetheless.
I watched "One day at a time". I saw Valerie Bertinelli and I identified with her because she was the FAT one - at least in my head she was. Of course she probably weighed fully half of what I did - but I digress... And I saw that Val LOVED Elton John. So of course, I too loved Elton John.
I heard Elton on the radio. And I loved him there too. He was fun and crazy looking. Flamboyant before that was a bad thing.
He was my generation's Liberace - before we knew why. Or well - I think we all deep down knew why - but before - when we were supposed to pretend NOT to know why!
And the pop music of Elton John followed me through my high school before it was eaten alive by the 80's new wave monster.
I can remember going to buy the "Live in Australia" double album set when that came out. It was the greatest album ever - and I think it still might be.
But where Elton sticks in my life in particular is in 1983.
When a boy....well I bet you can tell what comes next....a boy broke my heart. Sitting here I would love to tell you the story. I would love to but I'm not sure I can.
You see, at the time, it felt as if my heart was broken in half and laying bloody on the carpet in front of me. At the time I was sure that it would be better to be dead of heartbreak than to live through that pain. How could he? How could he not love me?
Elton said to me, "I guess that's why they call it the blues/Time on my hands could be time spent with you".
He knew.
I can remember crying through the tears.
I have a clear - crystal clear - memory of sitting on my carpet in my bedroom - near the window and singing along at the top of my lungs "don't wish it away/don't look at it like it's forever..."
I was eating a sandwich - white bread and cheese - don't know why I remember that. And I was crying so hard that the bread was salty from tears and I was kind of choking on its soggy salty stickiness while I sang and ate and cried.
But do you know, for the life of me I can't remember who I was crying about.
Was it Steve or Steve? Yes, both named Steve. Both broke my heart. Both in 1983.
Kinda sucked twice.
But who made me hurt like I wanted to die?
Who gave me that memory etched into my brain so that every time for the rest of my life when I even THINK about Elton John I think about choking on a tear stained cheese sandwich?
I can't say for sure.
But I think that's an important thing eh?
Sad thing is, I still have BOTH Steve's in my life and neither of them were worth the tears.