Hi readers. When Jeanne’s oldest son, Kenneth, called around 6pm last night Hydrox and I were wondering whether to pester Shiva all evening.
Kenneth: There’s a concert down at the Olathe Park tonight. We were wondering whether you’d care to go.
Me: Does the Pope crap in the woods?
And so it happened. Kenneth, Andrew, Hailey [Kenneth’s daughter] and I drifted down and got a parking spot about a quarter-to-half mile from the park. And with a rest stop or two and a bit of heavy breathing, I spang walked down there for a bit of toe tapping and grinning.
Brody Buster – Guy’s a bull-goose harmonica player. Does a middling fine Creedence Clearwater Revival song or three as a stand-alone.
Paul Thorn Band – Reminds me in some ways of Leon Redbone. Reminds me in some other ways of early Jesse Winchester.
Heck of an enjoyable evening. Now that global warming went on coffee break it was comfy enough so all us people in shorts were wondering whether it was worth a walk back to the car for a jacket.
Hailey ended up wrapped in that blanket sticking the plastic light sticks out waving them around in the dark. Me, I figured it was going to be better struggling back to the car in cool night rather than crawling back on all fours in regular old honest late-July heat.
Turned out both bands were sufficiently good to distract everyone from global warming or a hair cool for the choice of clothing. Got them waving their arms around and clapping instead of talking about the polar bears dying off and Antarctica either melting or not melting.
An evening well spent. Physical therapy performs wonders. I never thought I’d be able to do something of that sort again.