8 o'clock tonight, Tennessee Theatre.







Color me stoked.

I bought the Ron White tickets as kind of a consolation prize, after waiting months and months (or was it weeks and weeks?) for good shows. Kings of Leon was my last show, way way back in October and I kept patiently waiting - well, as patiently as I know how - for something wonderful to pop up.

Nothing.

Months and months (or weeks and weeks for you literalists) of nothing.

So, when I saw the advertisement for Ron White, I jumped on it. So did the rest of East Tennessee. It sold out before I could even figure out how to buy tickets. Fortunately, a 9:30 show was added. After checking my calendar - who wants to go to a 9:30 show and face work the next day? - I grabbed two primo tickets (only to discover at the show that they were dead center in Yuppieville). I figured it would be a late Valentine present. We could be Adults Without Children. So, that's $100 for tickets, $100 for a hotel, $100 for a couple of meals. Doesn't break the budget because there's nothing the fuck else to do the rest of the winter.

And there it was. One week to the day after I committed to Ron White. John Prine. In Knoxville. At the Tennessee Theatre. Six days after Ron.

Of course I had to have them. I'd sell blood and plasma if necessary. My children don't need to eat every day. Those aren't high-waders, honey, they're capris. And next year they'll be shorts! We're not homeless, we're moving. Everything's a matter of perspective, isn't it? And, in T minus 6 hours, John Prine's going to be in mine.