~SHRIEK!!!!!!!!!!~

My mother is the coolest being on the face of the earth.

After a day of watching the Squeakmeister so I could do last minute garblaundering, she leaves to go home. About fifteen minutes after she's gone, my phone rings. "Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy: from the end of the world to your town!"

"Yes?"
"Guess who's coming to Starwood on the 13th of July."
"Who?"
"Nah, they broke up. Guess."
... ... ... Ma's birthday's the fifteenth, and she's got that note of heavy irony... the only show we've ever seen on her birthday was... "Not Tom and the boys..."
"In the flesh."
"Oh you're kidding."
"Not a bit. Tickets go on sale at ten tomorrow morning. What I need to know is what day the 13th is."
"Give me a second." (at which point I bolt for my datebook, plowing past anything in my path) "'S a Wednesday."
"Rock on. That means I might be able to get that day off. So what do you say?"
~wince~ "If you're springing, I'm game."
"Oh I'm springing. Can you find a babysitter?"
"So. Totally."
"Excellent."

So.

After a bit of juggling, I've got the data needed to buy said tickets and instructions to shoot for Platinum Circle, Centre section. Money is no object, so sayeth my supplier...

I've got my prey tracked down to its burrow; I've got my nose stuffed into the opening of said burrow; come ten tomorrow morning, as soon as that wee beast stirs, I'm opening my mouth--won't even see the light of day before it's in my grip.

~feral grin~

God, my mom's the coolest.

I'm going to get to see Tom Petty, Mike Campbell, Benmont Tench, possibly Ron Blair, and Steve Ferrone. Live. And hopefully close.

All because she thought it'd be a cool way to celebrate her birthday.

Wow, you know?