Bedtime Story

So the last 24 hrs. have been great, strange, dumbfounding, and just damn funny. It all started last night with the birth of my new nephew Will.

The old gang was there.

He make look like an alien now, but with his parents' good looks he is sure to be the apple of my eye.

So after a sleepless night, I headed to an IG show with KT. I was excited. She was going to her second show in as many days with high hopes of a new set list. When we arrived, we staked out a pole, since we had no option but general admission. We figured it would be good as a leaning post, but also for dancing options.

The show started, and the first two songs were the same as the night before.

And of course, the good times rolled.

Unfortunately there is always the fear, at the Tabernacle, that the building is going to cave at any moment.

And also, the downside of standing only general admission is tall people. Especially when you are 5 ft. 2 with my shoes on. I started humming the tune, 'they might be giants.'

Oh no, I'm not talking about normal guys with normal heights. I'm talking about this.

Seriously, he was at least nine feet tall, and he kept moving in front of me. When the Indigo Girls finished a song, I was in fear of my life, his elbows waving dangerously close to my forehead. Then, as a stroke of luck, he went to get his wife a beer. It was then that a nice young group of homo-bi-tri-sexuals moved in, not knowing that the jolly green would return. Everything was fine until Paul Bunyan showed up with new brewskies for he and his wife.

Since the new group had moved into his space, not knowing the shoes they were filling, he returned to reclaim his throne as the tallest guy ever. But this group of confident young women were not backing down. They tapped him on the shoulder as asked him to move. They said, 'but we can't see,' to which he replied, 'oh well.' I was sure a fight would break out, and these tough but tiny lesbos would lose no question. Luckily, Andre the Giant and his wife heard 'Get out the map' and left. We all breathed a sigh of relief, and I no longer worried of head trauma. And we partied like rock stars.

Meanwhile, it was becoming painfully clear, that the IGs were not varying from their previous set list. Katie, began prepping me for the next song. And she was right everytime. Thank God, we still had Amy Ray.

But by this time, Katie had broken into a sporadic conversation with our young friends. They were nice, well there was a mini-me who was quite a bitch, but overall they were nice. Still, we couldn't figure out who was with who? They all kept up a solid performance of light grinding. You know, whatever. I have no qualms, but excess PDA is never necessary. They were recently graduated college kids, but good lord, don't get drunk and make us watch (begging the pardon of all of our college viewers). I am quite sure I never acted like that, but Katie and I did agree, that we might not have been much different at their age. Thank goodness we are just as cool now as then. Besides, either of us could dance them off a dance floor. Perhaps what kept me chuckling instead of throwing a punch was the outfit one was wearing. Quite a tankini, I'm still trying to figure out how anyone would put it on, look in the mirror, and think, 'damn I look good.'

At this point, we realize that there is very little variation from the set list from Thursday, and unfortunately the variation was to play Chickenman. C'mon is that the best song you can do as a substitute? Lady just wanted a crack at the guitar, she would have set Amy and Emily straight (well not literally of course).

You know, good songs are good songs, but some should just be retired. 'Closer to Fine' is one of those songs. Hang up a banner, make a speech, but for the love of mike, do I really have to hear it again? Thus, my reaction.. nobody even cares who Rasputin is or that you can drink from a fountain.

And then our sweet young lesbian friends, well Katie's new friends, show us both that just because the theater is smoke-free you don't have to cut out all nictotine. No, I kid you not, we realize that they are all dipping. Don't let the angle fool you, she has in a dip.

And don't let the 'bud light' logo fool you. This is a bonafied spit cup.

Meanwhile, Joseph is loving some of his little Will aka "push up pop." Doesn't he look like everyone's favortie summertime snack, the orange sherbert push up pop? I love him already.

So even though the IGs continue to underwhelm us with repeats from the night before, we continued to enjoy the night. Until the mini-me bitch (with the other nice dippers) tried to invade Katie's space. It was if she sensed that Katie could, if she wanted, take any of her friends home. And so she grinded precariously close to Katie, making sure we realized that this was her turf. Mini-me bitch on the left, Katie's personal space violated on the right.

And so our night of fluffs and flows ended. We directed them to another bar for a post-concert grind-off. Good thing we didn't show up to their post-party, they never could have hung with us- the dance-masters of cool. We may be older, but we still have our swagger. And thank God we still have our pole.

The last 24? I wouldn't trade it for the world. And for tonight, this bed-time story is ready for bed.