What Would Have Happened at the Blackhawk Concert
Since restrictions have gone into place, I'm thinking about a lot of things that I'm not doing. Like not going to concerts.
I would've had to find a date and go out to dinner before the Blackhawk show at the Pub Station. Then I would've had to drive around and find a parking place where nobody could door ding my pickup.
I didn't have to buy tickets. I didn't have to buy drinks. I didn't have to sit right in front of the drunk guy whose main vocabulary word was, apparently, "WOOOOO!"
I didn't have to listen to the "Woo guy" sing the wrong words to my favorite Blackhawk songs.
"No long explanation, no reconciliation, mumble, mumble summer, fall". You're killing me, "Woo guy."
Wait. "Woo guy" recites his mantra a little louder after each successive song as the night moves along. And by now he is also raising his glass to accompany each "Woo." At least he likes country music.
We get the encore over with and leave the Pub Station. You're never going to believe this but I parked by "Woo guy."
Now, I'm sort of happy that I had to stay home.