STYX

Whenever I wear my STYX shirt, sporting the artwork from "The Grand Illusion" album, I get quizzical looks. Those puzzled glances are usually followed with a question like: "STYX, huh?" I answer, "Yep."
Then a pause precedes the next question: "... and how old are you?"

I have often wondered what made my twenty-something self became a fan when there is so much other good music out there. How did they work their way, so effortlessly, into my heart, playlists and banter? All I can say is, there's something about STYX.

There's something about those sweet harmonies.

There's something about those tasty guitar licks.

There's something about those kick-butt power stances.

There's something about those aging men, and how much they love their music.

There's something about being at one of their concerts, seeing it all in action.

Most particularly... there's something about Tommy Shaw. Those biceps. That hair. That face.

And there's something about meeting him (and kissing him) that will cause you to do something like this:

And there's something about sharing it all with your best friend, that just puts the icing on the already-audibly-delicious delight that is STYX. No shame. No apologies. No regrets. 

I love STYX.