It's no secret to anyone in my known universe who the love of my life is, as I mention him on an almost daily basis and my children probably hear his voice and see his face more than they hear or see their natural father.
That's right. I'm talking about Tom Waits. Again.
But this time I speak of him with much remorse and regret. You see, tickets went on sale yesterday morning for his first show in Atlanta in over 10 years... but I didn't hear about any of it until yesterday evening, after they'd been on sale for almost 10 hours. Bret... bless his soul... called me the moment he heard about the tickets and I in turn jumped on the computer to grab those puppies, no matter the cost... but alas, I was too late.
They were sold out already. Poop. Double poop. I've never gone from exhalted elation to disappointed deflation in so fast a time as those 15 minutes.
The last time Tom toured anywhere, about 5 or 6 years ago, he came nowhere near the South. But I put out word to my friends back then who were in the lucky cities and I am going to repeat the offer again:
Should anyone have an extra ticket that they'd like to let me know about, I'd be eternally grateful. Or if, say, you have a mildly depressive friend who was lucky enough to have purchased tickets for the show... I'm not saying you should do this... not really... but... maybe you could... you know... let them know they've not been looking so great lately... gained weight... have no real goals in life... or you could talk endlessly about how this country has gone down the shitter and there's no sign of returning. But, before you embark on that endeavor, maybe you could secure their tickets somehow in a safe place, or have them will them in their suicide note to me. Either or.
Another offer that I'd like to extend, just to up the ante a little more, is that if any of you should happen to actually meet Tom... if you'd like to hatch a plan to kidnap him and keep him in your cellar/attic/bunker/garden shed... I will not only grace you with my presence, I will be so grateful that... well, I won't sleep with you, no. But I would sleep with Mr. Waits and let you watch. How about that?
I'm looking for creativity, people. Somebody out there has got to know someone... or knows someone who knows someone. With all the clicks I get on my blog on a daily basis, something is bound to bear fruit.
Surprise me.
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