I called my Dad up and asked if he wanted to go on a date with me to see the bluegrass group Dailey & Vincent at the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater's Young Auditorium... he instinctively screamed out No! and then mumbled something about not trusting me alone out in public.
Which is ironic, because I stopped going out with him alone in public back in 1995 when he picked me up from the airport. Two and a half hours into our 45 minute drive home I realized he was (1) lost on these ridiculous back roads he insisted on taking and (2) driving off his drunk. We got home about 4 hours after he picked me up. Again, the airport is 45 minutes from our house. Who doesn't trust whom, Dad?
So, I asked my Mom to go with me. Because she's not that good at coming up with excuses on short notice. And also, growing up she had these long playing records of various folk singers, gospel singers, bluegrass bands -- no Elvis or The Beatles, mind you, but music was always in the top half of what we were doing -- so I figured she would enjoy it. (We also had a mean Roy Orbison 8-track in our conversion van, along with Crystal Gayle. We were totally cool.)
Apparently there was a buffet.
Food and bluegrass?
That's a score right there, people!
|Please turn off all electronic devises. |
And you, back there in the striped shirt -
stop taking pictures!
After the show... I stalked them. Which is what I normally do. Mostly because I was hoping to stuff them all in my car and bring them home to show all my friends.
|He has no idea I'm right behind him.|
I think I can take him!
|Christian Davis, ladies and gentlemen!|
This is me trying to be cool with that fact that his hair is way better than mine. And also, he can sing. Which is something I can't do. Unless you count that time I sang as Mrs. Hannigan in a review at the local theatre. But let's be honest... she's a drunk and isn't supposed to sing well. I sneer and sway really good so it was a perfect role for me.
|Jeff Parker, ladies and gentlemen!|
|Joe Dean, Jr and the amazing fiddle player from LA whose name escapes me.|