I healed myself with some music last week and I really wanted to talk about it.

I wanted to talk about seeing Sutton Foster at the Allen Room and how Columbus Circle lit up the dark behind her and how she sang songs from her new record and how I randomly started crying through most of them and had an awakening of some kind that I still can’t quite articulate.

I then wanted to talk about how, the next evening, I went to see three BRILLIANT and INSPIRING singer-songwriters at the Beacon. Those would be, of course, Shawn Colvin, Emmylou Harris and my favorite of all time, Patty Griffin. I wanted to tell you how they sat in a semi-circle and just went around and around singing songs and telling stories and how I felt like I was around a campfire except there were no s’mores or hot dogs on a stick and it was still the BEST CAMPFIRE IN THE ENTIRE HISTORY OF THE WORLD.

But where do I start!? What do I say!?

Well. It should be noted that I took my dad to that concert/campfire. Well, my dad and Alayna.

See, sometime at the beginning of last week, I was feeling sad and when this happens, I think, I KNOW WHAT I NEED! LIVE MUSIC! So I start googling my favorite artists and figuring out who’s coming to town and LO AND BEHOLD: I discovered Patty Griffin was playing here along with my dad’s idol, Emmylou. (I wasn’t quite familiar with Shawn Colvin’s music and let’s just say she is so much better than that overplayed 90′s song Sonny Came Home because seriously, I still don’t know what that song is about. JUST SAYIN’.)

Soooo, I called my dad and asked him if he wanted to maybe see his favorite girl play some folk guitar and he was all ARE YOU KIDDIN’ ME? DAT IS THE BEST IDEA I EVER HEARD.

So, Alayna and my father and I hit up a concert and it was kind of the best night of my life. The problem is, I just couldn’t find the words to describe that to you. I couldn’t find words to tell you how music touches my soul and how my dad laughs really loud in public places like I do and how I kept leaning over to Alayna and screaming PATTY GRIFFIN IS THE BEST THING OF MY LIIIIIIIIIIIFE. How their harmonies blended like honey and how the sound of their twangy guitars filled a 3,000 seat theater. How Patty sang Long Ride Home and I cried and cried.

I mean, that is how it went down but it was so much more inspiring than that, so much more cathartic. And between a favorite Broadway diva of mine on Thursday night and those prolific singer-songwriters the next evening, my week turned around and I put some band-aids on my heart and it stopped throbbing for a good long while.

I will tell you what also helped:

Dinner with my father before the concert.

Since it was in the neighborhood, I suggested we all trek to my dad’s favorite Vietnamese restaurant in the entire world. Over the phone earlier in the day he told me he was “SALIVATIN’ JUST THINKIN’ ABOUT IT” and so of course, he had the best time of his life. He already knows what to order before he gets there—a glass of plum wine, the coconut soup #27 and the steak #45 and for dessert, he enjoys a mug of Vietnamese coffee.

It should be noted that when referring to the numbers of the dishes on the menu, my father likes to “math-ethize” them for “fun”. So instead of #27, he says “THREE CUBED”, etc. He finds this very amusing. HA HA MATH PROFESSOR HUMOR, I GUESS.

Since Alayna had never been to this particular restaurant, my father took it upon himself to help her pick out some dishes along with his various thoughts on each one which sounded eerily similar.

DAT IS AMAZING.

DAT IS ALSO AMAZING.

DAT IS OUT OF DIS WORLD.

DAT IS TOO.

After an hour and a half or so, we were all completely stuffed but OF COURSE could not turn down the deliciousness of the Vietnamese coffee which my father could NOT STOP talking about up until this point.

Now, if you have never had this type of coffee before, Internet, I will now explain it a little. In short, the coffee comes with some kind of sweet condensed milk at the bottom of the mug. If you like it black, you can simply sip from the top, avoiding the milk. However, if you like it sweet, your best bet is to stir up the coffee and the milk until it is a warm caramel color and tastes of angels and unicorns and possibly the tears of Dakota Fanning.

Truly, it is the best coffee in the universe.

However, let’s say you are unsure of how to stir up your coffee. Let’s say perhaps you are supposed to go on a blind date and your date is a Vietnamese coffee aficionado and you are petrified of looking stupid. Let’s say that my written instruction manual above is still not enough and you are VERY VERY NERVOUS and would like to actually SEE someone stirring up some Vietnamese coffee and milk IN PERSON.

And that person happens to be a very goofy Polack with a thick Brooklyn accent.

Well, then, YOU ARE IN LUCK.

Internet, meet my dad.

You’re welcome.

How To Drink Vietnamese Coffee from The Spectrum on Vimeo.