Up for sale

The Rock and Roll business machine, is one I’ve avoided for a long time, mostly sticking to the smaller venues, and lesser known bands.
Gus, rekindled my like for Fleetwood Mac, a band, that I can say without shame, has been one of my favorites for decades.
I think it was Before we knew he would be moving south that we got tickets to see them at the “Q”.
Nevertheless, Jack went in his stead, and we had a grand time once we changed seats from the steep and terrifying  upper deck to the lower level, where I demonstrated to him that sometimes you just have to act like you know where you are going, and  ushers leave you alone.  This was all  after I shelled out  over ten dollars for three chicken nuggets and soggy potato chips.   So much suck , in so many ways.
We had a much better view, and were left alone, but for the drunk ladies nearby.
I’ll not complain about the prices to the degree that it deserves, we‘ve all dealt with it, airport prices in a broader context, but sports and music go hand in hand with the engines of commerce, any way you slice it.

Toward a closing door

So, as winter moves along, I keep telling myself it’s not been too bad.  And that is true in various ways, even with a  bit of chaos and a cupful of strife.
My oldest, who like my youngest, has rarely listened to advice from either Eamon or I, has found himself in a troubling spot.  And contrary to what he believes, my response is exactly what it’s supposed to be, perhaps it feels foreign, as it has been supplied by the doctrine to which he abides, but me doing it, seems an entirely different story.