Further evidence that the end of the world is near: Erin and I are going to see Jimmy Buffett in concert tonight. Now, don’t get all uptight just yet. We’re only going so we can see someone we met on our honeymoon who happens to be the costume coordinator for many different musicians, Mr. Buffett being one. For some reason, I’m sort of excited to be going so I can laugh at all of the morons in stupid shirts. Think of it as a sociological study. Besides, we get to go to a pre-show party backstage with free food and (I’m sure) fruity drinks with rum in them. Speaking of rows of tables filled with food: When I first wrote “Jimmy Buffett” on this post, I misspelled his name to read, “Jimmy Buffet”. That was amusing to me, thinking of a long line of Jimmy that you can help yourself to.
One more brief aside about Jimmy Buffett, then I’ll move on. A band I used to be in was doing a sound check many years ago and, for some reason, the bar had let some people in a bit early and they were priveleged to see us check our instruments on stage. Well, they were big assholes. They were rowdy and drunk and heckled us as they sipped on their Miller Lite©. As it turns out, they really weren’t indie rock fans, just Jimmy Buffett fans that had wandered in to the nearest bar before they headed off to Margaritaville. I’m going to try and hunt them down tonight and make them pay.
Wish me luck.