"OH! The people you will meet!

"Ohhhhh The places you'll go!

You'll be on your way up!

You'll be seeing great sights!

You'll join the high fliers who soar to high heights"

One of my best friends handed me the famous "Oh! The Places You'll Go" as we said goodbye on my final night in Bethlehem, prior to my leaving the states, prior to my new journey. I always wanted to rewrite this book and title it "Oh! The people you will meet!"

I think of this over and over again each time I meet a new person, each time I hear a new story, each time I hear a new name. I think of writing it today as I have made my trek across the Atlantic and have introduced myself to numbers and numbers of people: from the airport security men, to the young man who sat next to me in the terminal patiently awaiting the flight to see his girlfriend to my new roommates. Most of these people are people that I will only have met for a few minutes, a brief instance of mutual exchange, a valuable moment. I'll normally take the moments after to create more of a story for that person. I'll pretend that the airport security man has had to tackle a terrorist or that the boy waiting to see his girlfriend has not told her that he is coming, that he is surprising her, and that their world is going to be perfect. I love people. I love stories. So when I come across someone and I get to hear their story...I can't help but smile over that moment--that perfect moment where one of us felt comfortable enough with the other to share a brief valuable time in our lives.

I got to hear a few of these stories yesterday.

Let's face it, my Italian is molto brutto (very ugly---for now), so when I entered a cab in Florence and tried to speak Italian to my driver, it was a relief to hear him know English. This first ride would not be a quiet one. We spoke back and forth to one another, me desperately trying to speak Italian and him fixing my every error. And then with ten minutes left in our drive, he reminded me why I loved Italy so much, why I love Italians so much. It is not because of the food (though my first slice of pizza yesterday was phenomenal), and it isn't because of their leather (though I did feel like I fit in, in my black fake leather jacket), no, it is because of their love for talking, their love for stories.

And as I exchanged life stories with Stefano, I wondered if I would ever find the same happiness as him, if I would ever be perfectly content never marrying someone the way he has (my mother would never approve), if I would ever be content dedicating my life to one thing like he has (he rowed in the 1996 Olympics and considers himself marries to his boat), and if I would ever just be simply happy. He clearly knew happiness, as he dropped me off at my apartment refusing tip money and wishing me the best of luck in my time in Florence.

But he was just the first of many that I exchanged stories with on my first day--in my first hours. As I sat down for my first cappuccino, a young man sat to my left with his own. I turned with a smile on my face and exclaimed, MI PIACE CAPPUCCINO!. And he turned, and smiled, a big wide grin, and said, "ANCHE IO!" I soon discovered that he was from Africa, but knew no English. Fortunately, he bared with me and my wonderful (ahem) Italian. We ended up going on to speak in fragments for nearly forty minutes exchanging names and numbers and an arrangement for a future coffee date. And as he walked away, to return to work, I just kept thinking about all the people I will meet...and all the stories that I will hear.

As I continued to sit alone at my table, I looked around me and just felt happiness--like Stefano, and I just smiled--a lot. It may become a very lasting habit...In the words of Elf--Smiling may just become "my favorite."

"Behind this heart, there's 1,000 hearts that keep me on track"

The most intimate concerts often take place in low-lit, hole-in-the-wall bars where you can literally reach out and touch the artist from the furthest point in the bar. These are the types of concerts where you get nervous to take a photo, because you believe that the flash you set off will blind the artist as well as the entire crowd that has squished together. It’s the kind of show where you can stab a line here and there back and forth with the artist—making it feel as though you have created a friendship—a relationship—an affair, for the brief forty-five minute set.

But I’ve found something even better: The kind of show where you sit down with the artist one-on-one, where he or she plays every song that he or she has ever written, and offers you a story behind each one. This is the type of show where you don’t even take photos because you feel such a personal connection between the artist and yourself. You realize quickly that a picture wouldn’t capture the moment as well as the exchange of words, and it’s the type of show where you truly feel like the only person in the room…because…well you are.

And that’s the experience that I had recently, when I got to sit down with friend, singer, and songwriter Paul Knakk, who breaks the standard “1 in 10 songs is a hit” rule and creates an abundance of music that would have overtaken the once highly rated TRL every day. Paul Knakk is a gem.

Never have I had the opportunity to truly sit down with someone and talk about their work—their creative niche—their passion, while watching them really engage in that talent that they have. It truly is a rare and exhilarating moment to see someone smile while they are doing what they love.

Paul and I attended the same high school, but I didn’t really know him until recently. A year younger than me, we never had the same classes, and we didn’t share groups of friends. I had known who he was because of pictures he had posted from when everyone was in middle school, pictures that many people got a really great laugh about when originally posted. About a year ago, Paul and I became Facebook friends, probably because one of us saw that the other had many mutual friends and we went to the same school. Soon after, I learned that Paul was pursuing music. I checked out his videos, his notes, and took the time to listen—and I really enjoyed it.

Unable to make it to one of Paul’s shows in the last year, I formed a friendship with him always discussing the music and what he had planned next. He went on to try out for American Idol this past year where he met many contacts and formed connections that will truly help his music career. The more he talked about his music—his recent show—and the fact that he was going to get a brand new amazing guitar—the more I knew that I had to hear him play live.

So the other day I finally took the opportunity to sit in on a private concert, where Paul played every song he has ever written. Two guitars, two locations, and three and a half hours later, I now knew Paul better than I had known many people that I have been acquainted with for many years. Paul’s music gives sound to his life experiences while also allowing you to connect and feel like the words have been written just for you, like Paul wanted to tell not only his story, but yours too. At most points, during my private show, I had wished that I had a pencil and paper because his lyrics drove thoughts and inspired ideas of my own. His music—his stories—they gave me chills.

Paul’s story is an amazing one that highlights most people’s experiences in adjusting to a world filled with love, hate, and jealousy. What else is amazing about Paul and his musical endeavors? He has self-taught himself, putting together his delicate words with outstanding notes. I would have guessed Paul had been playing for years…but was surprised to learn that he has only really been writing and playing for a year and a half. As Paul and I agreed, there’s nothing that other artists have—that he doesn’t.

Not everyone has the guts to go for their dreams and not everyone has the will to fight for their passions. But after leaving Paul’s house, I realized how important it is that we recognize our talents and the talents of others. Many nights we sit around and fight to find something to do. Should we go get drinks? What about a movie? How about one night where we just sit around with a close friend and experience what makes them happiest...where we just fully experience them. The lights don’t have to be dim, the location doesn’t have to be a hole-in-the-wall, the cameras don’t have to be in hand, and the conversation doesn’t have to be simple…even if it’s a simple night. This is the best kind of concert—this is the best type of night.

For more information on Paul Knakk, I suggest friending him Paulie or by joining his Facebook Group. Once becoming friends with Paul, you can check out his beautiful lyrics in his notes and watch videos of him playing. His YouTube page is currently undergoing maintenance, but you can bet that once it is back up, the volume on his site is going to soar. And at shows…well the girls will be chasing him down, of that I can guarantee. I’m lucky to know and be friends with such a talented musician.