Oh What A Night

Killer night last night.

Went out with Jason and Karen to dig on Big Bad Voodoo Daddy.

Now vibe-wise it was an enormous gamble. We bought the tickets months ago. Unfortunately the concert ended up being the same night as THE PATS Divisional playoff game. Jason and I manned up and went to the concert anyway, but we were sweating blood.

First things first. Dinner at The Common man. We had a magnificent dinner at The Common Man. I chowed on Cajun steak tips and I was taste bud glorious.

Carol created a bit of a scene. Sitting in the bar waiting for our cutesy buzzer to go off and she raised her voice to the bartender. He was taken aback. Told her she didn't have to yell at him and then he summoned security, who immediately cuffed her.

I applied the old Joe-smoothy-charm and convinced them it was only the fancy margaritas she was throwing back like water, and that it was a one time situation and a special night. They acquiesced and removed the cuffs.

We repaired to the dining room and enjoyed culinary magnificence. Good conversation. Much laughter.

I wrote a Haiku on the tablecloth. I am really talented.

Carol was a little high strung and afraid we would be late for the concert. She beat and battered and abused the waiter, repeatedly telling him "We don't have a lot of time. You better move this thing along, sonny."

In her defense we were victimized by the whole call-ahead bullshit. What a load of crap. When I was a wee young lad, restaurants had this thing called reservations. You reserved a dinner time and when you arrived you were taken to your table. You honored the reservation by being on time, the restaurant honored the reservation by seating you promptly.

Then restaurants lost their balls and started "call-aheads." The most useless thing in the universe. I called at 5:00, told them we would be there by 6:00. Phone fool told me there was no wait at all when I called (of course not - early bird special, Seinfeld etc.), but if there was a wait at 6:00 the call ahead would save a lot of time.

We got there at 5:45. Got seated at 6:30. They even buzzed us once and then told us they prompted the wrong buzzer. We left the bar, we went back to the bar. Had we been seated on time there would have been no anxiety about being late for the concert.

The concert: I won't even talk about the opening act. A local rock band stuck in the sixties. Called The Tripping Souls. You figure it out.

Then Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. I became aware of them years ago but never really got to know them. Carol fell in love with them a few years ago; we missed them last year so here we were.

This band rocks. Supremely talented musicians. They play old tymey swing music, big band type stuff. They cover classics, they play originals.

The individual musicians solo in almost every song and they solo exquisitely. They absolutely wail.

Frankly I am surprised that they are as popular as they are. Typically, supremely talented musicians command a niche audience. People who understand exactly what the musician is accomplishing with his instrument.

Although the music that BBVD plays is quite catchy and I think that has a lot to do with it. The audience is treated to gifted musicians because the audience is attracted to the music.

The concert was absolutely fantastic and I was happy to see Carol digging it so thoroughly. I already ordered a CD.

THEN: We scuttle across the street to the local sports bar to catch the end of THE PATS game. Walked in with 15:00 on the screen. The start of the fourth quarter.

I was supremely happy.

29 - 22 PATS at the time. A very thin, quite precarious lead. Especially considering Cro Magnon Man Andrew Luck's propensity for come backs.

Shortly after we walked in THE PATS blew the game wide open.

There are millions of PATS fans out there. Devoted followers. All vibing THE PATS on to victory.

However, had I not walked in to The Draft at the beginning of the fourth quarter, THE PATS would have lost. I am claiming sole responsibility for THE PATS win last night and I expect the exalted recognition that achievement deserves.

All in all a magnificent night. The only drawback was the fact that I was quite uncomfortable and in some pain all night due to this goddamn neck thing. And Jason was sick as a dog with a nasty cold to accompany the back pain he has been struggling with for months.

In The Draft I noticed Carol and Karen huddled together, eyeballing all the young studly drunken lads and whispergiggling in conversation.

I caught bits and pieces of it. Something like.........." dump these old men and snag us a couple of  young bloods that can keep up with us."

I might have been hallucinating.

Hard to tell.