The concerts over�
2:33 a.m.
First of all, the blues concert was a smash success. They did manage to find a seat for everyone, but as our house manager confessed, there had never been a situation like that outside of choir concerts, when they routinely stuff the halls past safety regulations. I was fabulous, I looked great, the band was fabulous too. Grandpa Mike and Kevin O both wore black shirts and pants and black and white patterned ties, and all they needed were shades and hats to pass as the Blues Br0thers. Everything went well. Sure, there were places where I was not happy with some of the sounds I produced, and Hubby managed to drown me out with his screaming slide guitar in If I had possession, but all in all, it went very well. For an encore, we did an improv, and I sure as hell had no idea what I was doing. I ended up making something up about �I got up this morning, checked my email, nobody loves me anymore. If it wasn�t for the Viagra and the other thing, I wouldn�t have no mail at all.� The other thing, of course, is spam for penis extenders, but I couldn�t actually say that in front of an audience.
The second thing was the reception in the lobby where students and townies and colleagues all voiced their admiration and appreciation for what we had done. That was very cool. And the last thing was the after-reception reception at our house, where I got slightly fershnooshket (pronounce that if you dare) and beat my student the drummer in my daughter�s band at cribbage, not by too much, but still decisively. He has a lesson with me in less than 12 hours, considering I�ve rescheduled their lessons from next week because I�m away. Which means maybe I should go to bed soon.
My son took some pictures, which he has promised to help me download tomorrow, so I shall post them here for your voyeuristic pleasure. In the meantime, I think it�s time for me to sack out.
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