Is true love really a concept that exists in reality, or is it merely a figment of romantic imagination? This question likely didn’t cross my mind when I was just a teenager. At 13, I was discovering my interest in girls, but the idea of true love, particularly love at first sight, felt far-fetched. All that was destined to change soon, though. Back then, my passion was music. I played keyboards in school bands with friends, aspiring to be a rock star. Bands like Emerson, Lake & Palmer and Yes were my jam, but my older sister and I were also huge fans of Elton John. When we learned he was coming to our town, we pleaded with our mother to take us. True to her supportive nature, she loaded up the car, taking me, my sister, and a group of her teenage friends. One of those friends brought along her younger sister, Susan. As the two youngest passengers, Susan and I found ourselves stuck in the back of our Ford Country Squire station wagon.
In those cramped rear seats, I experienced feelings I had never felt before. Susan was tall, captivating, with long brown hair and bright brown eyes. She had a dimpled smile and a laugh that drew me in. As I sat next to her during the concert at the Fabulous Forum, I found myself distracted from Elton’s performance. Instead, I was enthralled by her presence. I sang along to the music, wondering if she felt the same connection I did. The excitement was palpable, but I couldn’t shake off my insecurities about my looks.
Once the concert was over, my pursuit of her began. Despite being in different grades at Portola Junior High, I made it my mission to cross paths with her. Lunchtimes became my scouting hours, and I often found reasons to talk to her, primarily revolving around our mutual love for Elton John’s music. Surprising her with a newly released album became one of my small victories. We’d spend hours on the phone, lost in conversation until someone inevitably interrupted us.
As we continued to interact, my affection for Susan deepened. She was sharp, funny, and kind, sharing my zeal for music. I felt convinced there could be no one more perfect than her. Eventually, I mustered the courage to declare my feelings. I approached her at home, nervous but hopeful, expressing my belief that we would end up together one day. To my dismay, she kindly let me down, expressing that she did not share the same feelings but hoped we could stay friends. Naturally, I was heartbroken, yet still held onto the hope that this was just a temporary stumbling block.
Despite the setback, we remained in touch, albeit less frequently. I played in various bands, while she excelled in her high school choir, and we’d share stories during our long phone calls. By the time I turned 16, my family moved to Westchester near LAX, while hers relocated to Westlake Village. The distance made it challenging to connect, yet I still clung to the hope that our paths would cross again.
Fate intervened one summer when Susan and her sister visited the area. The moment I saw her getting out of the car, the same feelings from years ago rushed back. This time, I had shed my braces and glasses, and was now enjoying a height advantage. With a casual suggestion from her to go out sometime, I jumped at the opportunity and arranged our first official date—a memorable evening of ice skating followed by dinner at Carl’s Jr. To my delight, she glided effortlessly on the ice, proving she was not to be underestimated. That night ended with our first kiss—something I had dreamed of since that fateful concert years earlier. It was everything I imagined and more, solidifying our connection.
Fast-forward to now, as we commemorate 50 years since that life-changing Elton John concert on October 6, 1974. Over the decades, Susan and I have played music together, built businesses, traveled extensively, and cherished the joys of family life, raising two wonderful children and doting on our grandchild. We’ve attended countless Elton John shows since then, and I continue to feel profoundly fortunate, experiencing that initial feeling of love at first sight each time I look at her.