I spent my birthday working at a special event for my job. Big celebration - for other people. But I then jetted off to NYC for a separate work event that would put me near my favorite hockey team (the New Jersey Devils) as they began the NHL playoffs.I watched for more than a week as the playoff picture took until the final game of the season to finally take form and know what the actual game schedule would be for Round 1 of the playoffs. Good news - New Jersey won its division after winning like 10-straight games to end the season; bad news - they were playing the New York Rangers in the first round of the playoffs. While I hate the Rangers like any Devils fan should, I was more concerned that getting game tickets would be more difficult than if they played, say, Edmonton.
My trip to NYC would be only three days and my free nights would be even fewer. So I waited anxiously for the playoff schedule to be published. Then I found out that the only game while I was in town would be on a night when I was scheduled to work. Bummer. Even more of a bummer when I learned, two hours before the game, that the night event had been canceled and I was free to do what I wanted.
Except that I had not bought tickets, planned transportation from Manhattan to NJ, and hadn't brought appropriate game attire. I ended up watching from my hotel room as one of the Devils scored a hat trick and beat the Rangers.
I celebrated my birthday the next weekend by making a trip to Austin with the sole purpose of seeing Bruce Robison perform. We made it. And thanks to the hospitality of someone in the Robison organization, the show was very special for us. (see previous blog entry).
We arrived early and claimed some of the best seats in the house. Drank lots of Shiner Bock beer and bought our obligatory T-shirts. I even got to say hi to the singer-songwriter (aka author of Angry All the Time, Travelin Soldier and Desperately) and tell him how much I enjoyed a particular song.
As we drove home that next day, I listened to a song that Bruce wrote called "You Can't Get There From Here" and thought how funny that, in my worklife, I couldn't even find joy in the big city when it was right under my nose. Yet, come home to Texas and have a fantastic, laid back weekend full of relaxation and Bruce Robison. It was a great concert. He didn't play my favorite song, but he did consider it.
As Bruce wrote, "Of all the things that I can't touch, I've wanted them so much; why's it always got to be so hard?"
My sentiments exactly.
