As Beck says, "Soy un perdedor. I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? (get crazy with the cheese whiz)."
The hubby and I are going to see Chicago (the musical group, not the Broadway show or the movie) and (if I had technical sense, I would add a drumroll wav file here) wait for it . . . Huey Lewis and the News. Back when my hair was big and my belly was not, I loooooved Huey. The Bay Area kids that weren't smart enough to get into a UC all seemed to end up at San Diego State (with me!). They told legendary stories of seeing HLN at Uncle Charlie's in Corte Madera. We rocked hard to Huey, mimicking his "Heart of Rock & Roll" video moves in our dorm rooms. Ahhh, back in the day when beer had to be pimped, quality pot was hard to come by because of Nancy Reagan's whole Say No To Drugs campaign, but the blow was as easy to score as tickets to an Aztec basketball game. Boy, those bay Area kids (and groups) knew how to party. Good times, good times.
I might just sing along to every song.
And for the record, I did not pay full price for the tickets.