Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Lobster In Maine...

In my family, Lobster In Maine is a common phrase. The story is that, when we were in DC last year, we decided to go up to Baltimore to see Fort McHenry... you know, Francis Scott Key, Star Spangled Banner, all that fun stuff.
Well, we thought we'd drive a little further into Maryland, and, at some point, we ended up in New Jersey, 100 miles from NYC. We pleaded our chauffeur (AKA Daddy) to go to the Big Apple, the city that never sleeps; I was convinced that I'd finally be able to realize that secret dream of mine (taking a daisy to Strawberry Fields). Lo, he says no. I know he had good reasons, after all... even so, we were disappointed.
As we tried to make cheery, the infamous line was first uttered: "Why don't we just keep going and have lobster in Maine?!"
That phrase has come to mean an extravagant display of daring/adventure/stupidity/spontaneity, among other things. Our little day trip to Wyoming embodies the saying completely. Our luggage was in Colorado Springs, and we're driving to Cheyenne at three o'clock in the afternoon (in December, in the mountains)... utter stupidity, total spontaneity, pretty much reckless abandon... but so much FUN!
Now, I must brace myself for what I am about to say. If I were to take a time machine back just a mere 24 hours and show this post to myself, I'd have said you were telling a big fat lie, and that you had a sick, twisted mind (that's the clean version, anyway).
Let me take you back...
Yesterday, at 3:36 PM, I was quietly doing some work, minding my own business, when my mother says "WHAT?! CHECK YOUR EMAIL!"
"Why?" I asked her.
"I just got an email from Paul," she says.
"What would the newsletter be sending us?" I thought to myself as I headed to my Gmail.
Lo and behold, in the subject line, 'Paul McCartney - Up And Coming Tour'. I open the email, and it says two shows are planned: Glendale, AZ, and the Hollywood Bowl.
I'll skip the gory, fangirly-screaming details, but you can expect soundcheck pictures from Arizona. Number Nine, here I come (and nine, by the way, is my lucky number... incidentally, we're in the ninth row, too)!
I love my life.
Lobster In Maine.

I've said it hundreds of times, but I've just gotta say it again...
DEAR GOD, I LOVE THAT MAN!
This gets me to thinking of the first song I heard him perform live... I always say it's the moment I handed my heart to the Gods of Rock...

Lobster In Maine...

Is It A Subscription Box, Or Something More Sinister? (It's A Subscription Box. Maybe.)