“Lucy? I have some bad news.”

“Bad news, Thomas?”

“Yeah. I won’t be able to see Bright Eyes with you.”

“What? Why not?”

“Well… I’ve been called up.”

“What? Called up?”

“That’s right. I leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, Thomas. I… I… I… don’t know what to say.”

“I know, Lucy. Getting called up changes everything.”

“I guess that means we won’t be seeing Elvis Costello together.”

“No. I’m afraid not.”

“And I guess we also won’t be seeing Green Day or Santana together, either.”

“No we won’t. Nor will we be able to see Tori Amos, Wilco or Vince Gill like we planned.”

“Oh, gosh, Thomas. Why does it have to be you? Why can’t it be Richard or Harold?”

“I guess it’s because they need me, Lucy. After all, we knew this could happen when I signed up.”

“But, Thomas, I didn’t think it would be during the summer concert season. What about our plans? What about seeing Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers, Van Morrison and Bruce Springsteen?”

“We’ll just have to wait until I get back. In the meantime, I want you to promise me something.”

“Anything, my love.”

“If something happens to me. If I don’t come back, please promise that you’ll move on.”

“What? ‘Move on?'”

“Yeah, you know. Find someone else. Promise me that you’ll move on with your life.”

“Oh, Thomas! That’s a terrible thing to say! You’re the only man for me.”

“But there will be other men, Lucy. Like my best friend, Bob. He likes you. You two would make a perfect couple. The two of you could see U2 and The Rolling Stones together. Here, let me give you his number.”

“But I don’t want to see those shows with Bob. I want to see them with you. Don’t talk like that, Thomas. Everything will be all right. You’ll come back and we’ll see Kenny Chesney, Kings Of Leon and Drowning Pool. Just like we planned.”

“But all the guys I know that came back. Well, they’ve changed.”

“Don’t worry, Thomas. I’ll still be here for you. I’ll still wait for you, and we’ll go to all the shows we planned on seeing, including Elton John and… and… Lifehouse. Sob“

“Oh, don’t cry, Lucy. Please, don’t cry.”

“I can’t help it, Thomas. It just seems as if everyone I know is getting called up.”

“Uh? Everybody you know? Who?”

“I just heard yesterday that my cousin Frank got his orders. His National Guard unit was called up last week. He ships out for Iraq on Monday.”

“What? Iraq? Honey, I’m not going to Iraq. Heck, I’m not even in the military.”

“But you just said that you’ve been called up.”

“Right. I’ve been called up to pitch for the San Francisco Giants.”

“What? You’re going to the Meat Grinder? Oh, you poor dear! I… I… I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, say something, Lucy.”

“Uh Thomas?”

“Yes.”

“What was Bob’s number again?”