Insanity 2023 (It's What's For Dinner)

I am a GIP.

Genuinely Insane Person.

I am at my most comfortable when I am being insane.

The last time I was truly over-the-top insane was 2014. Just in case you are challenged in the math department, that was eight years ago. Eight fucking years. Apparently my balls were cut off after that.

Allman Brothers, second to last concert ever, Beacon Theatre, NYC. Me & Phil. Fucking legendary.

Phil is the last of my close friends who will get crazy with me. Especially in New York City, especially with the Allman Brothers. We had a blast. We did that twice over the years and NYC has never been the same. Unfortunately he spends 6 months a year in Florida. Killer commute.

We used to hit at least one Allman Brothers concert every summer, many times two, every year for 10 to 15 years, with a rotating cast of characters. Sometimes four of us, sometimes 10 of us, sometimes more. That was insanity. Designated driver (usually a van), beer, whiskey, pot, cocaine. Dangerously insane deliciously fun. I sang, I danced, I laughed, I met other ABB fans, we talked, we laughed - I was alive. 2014 was not quite like that but we tried like hell - there was an ocean of alcohol, a lot of laughter, and a very late night in NYC. Tasty enough.

I don't need insanity at that level any more. What I do need is to get out to listen to live music while consuming more alcohol than my doctor would recommend. I hardly ever do that at this point in time. Why not? It is in my very nature to do that. This drought has to end.

Trouble is, it ain't easy. I can't find anyone to go with, and the concerts I go to are too loud for Carol because of her hearing issues. And I refuse to drive drunk. I can go alone and skip the booze, I have done that before, but it reduces the fun factor by 99.5%. Booze & Blues go together like living and breathing.

I bought a ticket to see Poppa Chubby and Albert Cummings - two blues giants on the same fucking bill - at the Flying Monkey on January 28. I have no idea how I am going to pull this off, but I am going to pull this off. Either no booze, or a hotel room. Trouble is Uber in fucking NH is almost invisible. Fucking backwards state. And the challenges accumulate.

Maybe I can sleep in the men's room or under a table. I am open to improvisation.

My point is, I am kicking off 2023 in style and I am administering CPR to my natural insanity. I am determined to make this happen.

I have felt dead for a looooooooong fucking time and a big part of that has to do with how tame I have become. I bore myself, for Christ sake.

I have a lot of shit I gotta rip open and turn around and change and revive and kill in 2023 - my "to-do" list for resuscitating Real Joe is frighteningly long. 

Insanity is right near the top of the list. If I get insanity back to where it is supposed to be, a lot of other shit will fall into place.

Hot damn, 2023 will be a fun year.