Screamin' Willie's is a local mega-bar with a decidedly scooter-trash atmosphere. I'd known for some time that McGuffey Lane would be there Friday night, headlining a triple bill that also featured Danger Brothers (of Hineygate fame) and Jacked Up, but my wife and I couldn't justify fifty bucks to get past the door.
A phone call Thursday evening from John Schwab, offering us a pair of tickets gratis, changed our minds. We packed the spawns off to sleepovers at friends' homes and made a night of it.Jacked Up was playing by the time we got there. We hadn't seen this new-country cover band before, but we'll definitely make a point to catch them again -- they're absolutely killer.
It wasn't long before we decided to shell out an extra $10 each to upgrade our general-admission tickets to table seats in front of the stage (worthwhile only because the tickets were free to begin with). McGuffey Lane followed the opening act with an energetic 90-minute set, after which we got to spend a few minutes backstage chatting with John and his girlfriend. Danger Brothers finally took the stage around 11:30pm.
Talented as these guys are, as much as we enjoy their act, we prefer to see Danger Brothers under pre-game skies at Hineygate, not indoors at some redneck bar. We hung around for a half-dozen songs and then headed home -- sort of.
For safety's sake (if you know what I mean), Mrs. KintlaLake took the wheel. We both had a bad case of the wee-hours munchies and, over my wife's objections, we swung by the drive-thru at a nearby White Castle.
It's been said that what separates men from women, fundamentally, is that guys find the Three Stooges funny and girls think they're just stoopid. I contend that there's a second difference: guys like Slyders and girls don't. So after our White Castle run, we hit Wendy's.
Fed and watered, we slept well -- very well.
The next morning I dragged myself out to the barn for the springtime ritual of stripping the tractor of its winter wardrobe (chains, wheel weights, plow blade) and installing the mower deck. With everything working as it should, I did an admittedly half-hearted job on the lawn -- I had other work to do, and besides, I couldn't stop thinking that it won't be my lawn for long.
My family and I spent the rest of Saturday and all day Sunday packing and hauling four loads of boxes to the storage unit. At one point yesterday afternoon, I did devote a couple of hours to rotating the tires on my wife's car.
It's never easy to use hand tools to break loose lug bolts last tightened with a pneumatic impact wrench. I got the job done, but in the process I managed to do a serious number on my right elbow, which is resting on an ice pack as I type this. Damned tendinitis.
My wife's father keeps reminding me that I'm in no shape to be doing this household move without professional help. (Maybe he was all used up by the time he was my age, but I'm still swinging.) I can't wait to tell him that I hurt myself changing tires -- sure, it'll validate his opinion, but it'll give me a good (private) laugh.
Anyway, it was a satisfying weekend. Now there's more work to do -- and, I think, more good times to come.
