I am way behind on my blog here. Waaaaay behind. Sorry about that. I wish I could say my absence was due to the fact that I rescued and rehabilitated a multitude of blind, three-legged puppies, but I was just being lazy. After the school year ended, I didn't want to do anything that required more thought than, say, breathing.
But I have been having fun. I read a post by
Johnny B. Truant which simultaneously reminded me that I am but a blip on the screen, and caused me to grow a pair of
cojones for once. I may be a blip, but I was going to start doing epic shit.
Enter
The Lowest of the Low. I've mentioned them before, when I decided,
if I was going to buy a Canadian, it would be Ron Hawkins. They were playing at Buffalo's Thursday in the Square, which was moved to the Central Wharf. That's Buffalo, always changing their minds.
They were freaking awesome.
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| Nice close up of Ron on the jumbo tron... |
After the concert ended, much too early, people slowly filed their way out of the wharf. My friends, Amy and Janine had enjoyed the concert with me, albeit, I don't think either one of them ever gave thought to actually buying Ron Hawkins. But I'm used to be the oddball, and frankly I don't want anyone else getting ideas about buying Ron, because then there would be a bidding war, and I am working with a teacher's salary here, people!
So as we are slowly filing our way out, we see him. Amy and I start giggling like a couple of choir camp nerds running into Josh Grobin at the supermarket. OMG! It's Ron Hawkins! And because we can sometime be really, really lame, we first tried to do the "fake" pic with a celebrity thing. Notice Amy looking suave, trying to appear next to the blob that is Ron Hawkins' head.
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| Very smooth. |
Looking at this pic on my phone, I began to feel disgraced. I was supposed to be doing epic shit. Not lame-ass shit. So I said what the hell...and actually spoke to Ron Hawkins, even if it was just to ask if he would take a pic with two middle-aged broads.
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| He touched my back, y'all!!! |
Thank God we held it together until he was out of earshot, when we began shrieking like a couple of hormonal teenagers. But, we were epic, AND we had photographic evidence. Take that, universe!
