And I'm wiped out. I'm definitely not as young as I used to be. Why, only ten years ago I could drive three hours to a concert, get three hours of sleep and go to work. I can't do that any more.
Joan's boss gave her today off so she wouldn't have to come home and go to work a few hours later. Slacker.
Tom and I got home at 11, and in spite of half an ambien, it was almost midnight when I went to sleep. I was five minutes late to work this morning, and I'm a zombie today.
But it was worth it! The show was great, Peter and Eric and Mary Ann were all so nice, and it was fun to be at the release party for their cd. The Station Inn is a tiny old club; some of the seats are from Earl Scrugg's (I think) old tour bus. The place is full of posters for old bluegrass shows, lots of personality and flavor. (Except the food. Microwave nachos and pizza just don't cut it, but we gamely ate them anyway, since that's what was available. Maybe the bbq was better......)
We really lucked out with the hotel I found at hotels.com. I've gotten a couple of not the best options that way, but this one was in our price range ($64, a "last-minute" special), and we didn't know the city at all, so we decided to try that one. It turned out to be the Millennium Maxwell House Hotel, a pretty nice place and usually much more expensive, and in a good neighborhood. Some medical school was having its Cadaver Ball there that night (I'm not kidding about that, either.) and there was a convention. When asked what convention it was, initials were muttered, then the guy came clean with "Amway". Good grief.
After checking out Sunday morning, we toured the city by car, with both back windows down and Joan and me hanging out with our cameras. Being immediately marked as tourists doesn't bother us. We saw enough to know that we want to go back some time when we can spend a few days and it's warm enough to go outside.
But maybe we'll fly next time.