Hat tip to Robert Burns for the title. You’re probably wondering if the post is going to relate to rodent infestation or not. At least that was my point in starting it this way. Plus I’ve got to start somehow and this seemed as good a way as any.
Regular readers may recall my last post wherein I mentioned I was going to Greenville, SC to see Brandi Carlile in concert. I had a really pleasant drive over there, I stayed off the Interstate and chose two lane country, well, state roads, for the first half of the trip. I find that by doing that I don’t get so focused on the destination and can instead enjoy the drive. Excepting, of course, the random person that enjoys driving five to ten miles per hour below the speed limit through “No Passing” zones but that’s neither here nor there. I got into Greenville a couple of hours before the doors opened, checked in to my hotel, and found a lovely restaurant around the corner where I dined al fresco. Back to the hotel to freshen up, I glanced out the window of my room at the entrance to the venue, conveniently across the street from where I stayed, and thought to myself “there sure doesn’t seem like many people are waiting to get in.”
I finished getting ready and walked over to the show. Or so I thought. The crowd was still nonexistent. Panicked, I checked my ticket. Right date, right time. I walked toward the door and was met by a pleasant young woman with a decidedly unpleasant job; telling people the concert had been cancelled that morning due to illness.
Sigh.
She helpfully suggested a bar a short walk away that was known for live music so I headed down the street. Found the bar, and watched two old guys playing acoustic guitar, rocking out hits from the soft-rock catalog. Poorly. When the “singer” bolloxed the words to Steve Goodman’s “City of New Orleans” despite having them on his iPad (directly in front of his face) I figured my evening had hit its zenith and was now descending, rapidly. Just to confirm the plunge I walked past a restaurant offering the entertainment of a young woman singing and accompanying herself on the electric guitar. She sounded pretty good too, so I stopped to listen. I hadn’t even found a place to sit when she came to the end of the song and, as it turns out, her evening, as she thanked the crowd and unplugged.
Again, sigh.
So let me just say this about that. Brandi, if you read this (I have no reason to believe she will btw) I remain a huge fan and I can’t wait till you get back into a venue I can get to without too much travel hassle so I can experience your music live. Because, well, you know… Was I inconvenienced by driving four hours and putting money down on a hotel room it turns out I didn’t need? Sure. But on the plus side, I wasn’t the one that had to spend the evening, or really any amount of time, dealing with a stomach virus. And the thought of spending time that close to porcelain isn’t something I look forward to. So Brandi, I hope you feel better quickly. As for me? You pays your money and you takes your chance, right? This is the first concert I’ve had shot out from under me, so what are the odds it happens again? I’ll even get a chance to test my luck tonight when I drive to Chapel Hill for a show. Family and Friends is up and to prepare for the show I’ve been listening to their album Felix Culpa steadily for the last few days. I heartily recommend it btw. I linked one of their videos in the last post, but only one of you took advantage. The rest of you don’t know what you’re missing.
Speaking of missing (hey my segues are nothing if not smooth) I just found out a good friend of mine and a strong advocate for our union is getting himself promoted out of his bargaining unit. I’m not sure it’s public knowledge yet, so I won’t name names, but I do want to say a couple things. I’ll miss you at the conferences, and especially at the after conference conferences, if you know what I mean. You have been a staunch supporter and a dogged defender of union firefighters and paramedics, not just across Illinois, but across our great nation. People on this job generations from now will reap benefits from the battles you’ve fought. As will the taxpayers they protect. You’re a good man, and a better friend. I’m proud of you and I’m happy for you. I can’t be there for your promotional ceremony, but I’ll be thinking about you, and I know you’ll do a great job in your new role. Congrats my brother.
Of course none of these things I just said will stop me from throwing stones in your general direction given half a chance. And I know you expect nothing less.
Peace