If you’ve considered going to see the Trans-Siberian Orchestra this holiday season….let me give you a piece of advice on the house: Don’t.
I mean that in the best way possible.
I’ve intended to blog about this for a week. However, that plan was thwarted by the onset of flu / upper respiratory hell that followed. Followed what, you ask?
Do you remember filling in ad libs in the third grade? You know, those crazy fill in the blank sentences that read like this: Mary _________(verb) her __________ (noun plural) in the __________(noun). A normal child would come up with a well-adjusted sentence: Mary washed her hands in the sink. A not-so-normal child would come up with something like this: Mary drowned her rabbits in the beer.
If you’ve ever wondered what those not-so-normal children grew up to be (besides bloggers)–I’d be willing to bet at least one of them is now a writer for the Trans-Siberian Orchestra.
If you went, you know what I’m talking about. “And a man looked up to the heavens and after he wished on a star he followed an angel into a pub and drank a pint with an old man who weaved a story that lasted ninety nine years and made me wish that the helicopters used in the backdrop of the second half would come down and airlift me out of the Verizon Center.” Okay…so I ad-libbed part of that, but…wow. Who knew?
I only wish I’d stayed healthy enough to audition as a head banging hair swirler for the spring tour. I think it could have been my calling.