Dear Mr Healy,
I attended one of your concerts at the start of 2002. You were amazing. Your music was great and I went home with tons of happy memories.
But something that happened at that concert really changed my life. And you will almost certainly never know it (unless you read this blog, which is unlikely). You appeared to be intoxicated and emotional and you advised everyone in the crowd to, “follow your fucking dreams.”
You went on and on about how we’d wake up one day regretting it if we didn’t follow our dreams. And being young and impressionable, I took this on board. I’ve spent the last 9 years following my fucking dreams. And this year, I realised my dream of publishing a novel.
Today I sold another copy of my book, bring the total number of copies sold to 16. Am I pleased with that? Yes. I’d rather sell 16,000 copies, but 16 is a good effort.
So, Mr Healy, I want to thank you. You were right. Every birthday that passed after that concert in 2002, I’d wake up in the morning being disappointed because my dream hadn’t been realised yet. I won’t have that feeling next July. And I will always be grateful for the advice you gave me (and thousands of others) that night. You’ve changed my life.
Edit in 2016:
P.S. Five years after writing this blog, I still listen to your albums, I still go to your concerts, I still think about that night in 2002 and I still write. And I now do it for a living. You didn’t really change my life. I did it myself. But you directed me and for that I will always be thankful.