On the Town

I haven’t gotten out much lately.

November was the knee injury, so I spent some quality time on my couch and then there was the being broke from the unpaid quality time I spent on my couch, plus physical therapy.  Update, I am now $1,800 and one month of physical therapy in; last week my knee locked up again in a most excruciating fashion, and all that we can agree on is that my diagnosis is incomplete.  My diagnosis does not cover the excruciating knee locking.  Note to my doctor, I told you something was busted in there to start with.  Currently searching for another doctor.  And another $1,800 or so for the next round of whatever that entails.

December has largely been spent pinned to the floor by the baby dog asleep on my lap, which is not a bad way to enjoy the holidays.  And then there was the wrapping, baking, mailing, and traveling which goes with the actual holidays,  and the being even more broke from all of that.  I’ve made it out to a couple of couldn’t miss holiday shows, and discovered the hard-and-fast reality that, at this life stage, Dawg will be up at 5:45 a.m., no matter what time I have gone to bed. It’s one thing to stay out late on a Thursday night, get to work sleepy at 8:00 a.m. on a Friday, and sleep late on Saturday to make up for it.  It’s quite another thing to have a 5:45 a.m. wake-up call, seven days a week.  I knew this would be part of the lifestyle adjustment.  So we’re adjusting.  He’s worth it.

At any rate, by this weekend, I was in withdrawal, and all I wanted was a little raucous music. Thank you, American Aquarium, for delivering.  There was dinner with some of my old and new favorites at Beasley’s, and a dog visit, and then Tim Eastman.  Tracy told me that under no circumstances should I miss Tim Eastman.  She was right, as always.

Then there was Dangermuffin; I suspected they would not be my all-time favorites due to their reputation as a jam band.  Those who know me understand that I am far too Type A for jam bands.  I want a song to be nice and tight, beautifully crafted, beautifully played, without a lot of dilly-dallying and wandering.  I have a rule with even my favorite bands:  once you hit the first ten-minute song, I am going home to play on the floor with my dog. Ten minute songs strain my patience.  I liked Dangermuffin, though.  The parts where they were actually singing were more fun than the parts where they were wandering, but it turns out I didn’t mind the jamming much.


American Aquarium is always fun.  They’re loud, they’re boisterous, they’re all-American, and they’re always having a good time up there.  They’ve blown it out every time I’ve seen them play; they’re not a hold-something-back kind of band.  My crowd of favorites and I loved it, even those of us who’d been up since 5:45 a.m. and didn’t make it all the way to the end.  I went home with my ears ringing and my batteries re-charged, at least a little.

More family festivities today, y’all.  My brother is less than a year older than I am, and bless his heart, I think having a birthday between Christmas and New Year’s is even worse than having a birthday three days before Christmas, like mine.  We’ll press on through, though, and celebrate with brunch and cake and presents, and then the whole world will rally for New Year’s Eve tomorrow night, and I hope my sequin dress will still zip after the last crazy few weeks of couch time, floor time, and holiday time.  My crowd has geriatrically early dinner reservations, because that’s what we could get, and then there will be some party hopping.  Fletch and I may be asleep on the floor long before midnight.  We’ll see.

At any rate, 2013 will be here soon, very very soon.

Here’s to all kinds of good things ahead, for you, and yours; for me and mine; and heck, for everyone else and theirs, as well.

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