In addition to his addiction to ice cream, Mr. Wonderful is also sharing his addiction to live music.
We have tickets to a re-DEEEK-ulous number of concerts this year. Rush, James Taylor, Bon Jovi and The Police, among others.
Last week, we saw Foreigner. It was the second time in a year that we’d seen them, but damn, it feels like the first time, you know? Sadly, I initially referred to their lead singer as “Fake Lou Gramm,” which is wrong, as he totally and completely rocks. Kelly Hanson, I am so sorry I ever thought of you as anything but your own bad-ass rock star.
Anyway, the dude has the skinniest legs in the history of the world … but was wearing these jeans that fit like a glove. It made me think – is there a special denim boutique that is open to rock stars only? Do you have to have a gold record just to get in? I totally think this must be the case – and Def Leppard shops there, too. Speaking as someone who is always on the lookout for jeans that actually fit, I have yet another reason to become a rock star.
In other news, I might run off with a rock star.
Long ago when I was lonely and depressed and very, very single, BFF decided that I should marry Dave Grohl of Foo Fighters. She photoshopped a picture of us getting married on the beach and everything.
I told Mr. Wonderful that he should be concerned. You see … we have tickets to see the Foo at flippin’ RED ROCKS in July.
I cannot WAIT!
This will be part of a vacation where we’re going to hike. In nature. Voluntarily. And it was my idea.
I know. I’ve lost my mind.
But I’m actually really looking forward to it. We’re on the hunt for hiking books and are starting to train in preparation. And, in preparation for the concert, I have been loading up on all things Foo.
I’d not seen their video for Long Road to Ruin, which you can find here.
How am I supposed to not throw myself at a rock star who isn’t afraid to look like a 70s-era soap star? He’s hilarious! And, I understand that he’s very hard of hearing, which would be a perfect fit for my nagging ways. What’s not to like?
I don’t, however, know if Dave would ever try to pay me to eat a chicken liver dog treat, so Mr. Wonderful has the upper hand. For now.