Friday night was the George Strait concert with my dad. Between the college-aged kids smelling their freshly rolled joints and the drunk, elderly, anorexic, Amazonian man pelvic thrusting and nearly rolling (as my dad puts it) "ass over elbows" down the hill...I don't know how much of the concert we were truly able to enjoy. It is really a shame that nothing on this earth aside from Sunday School and the McDonald's PlayPlace is spared from the influence of drinking and drugs (and who really knows about the McDonald's PlayPlace). Don't get me wrong...I like a beer or two even three (or more), but there is a time and place and an AGE! When you have grandchildren (or at least appear to be old enough to have them), it's time to grow up. There were kids at this concert...lots of them. It just made me feel a little weird inside. And...last I checked, smoking pot is still illegal in this fine country, which means I should be able to go to a concert with my father and not leave with a contact high and smelling like a wet skunk. This whole concert incident reminds me of the Jack Johnson concert I went to last June. I fell asleep on the lawn waiting for Jack to come on stage. I didn't pass out. I simply took a nap on a warm, breezy night. I don't know how long I was asleep, but three security guards in yellow shirts woke me up and demanded that I stay awake or I will be asked to leave. It's amazing how I stuck out to those "guards," but the puking, swearing, obnoxious, belligerent drunks and druggies were somehow under the radar or not causing a scene? Oh well...that's enough of that.
We spent the rest of the weekend in New Albany visiting family. I got some great quality time in with my nephews. It blows my mind how beautiful and smart and, well, grown-up they are.
Well, it's time to get ready to Zumba. Nothing like a little latin dance on a nice summer day!