For the first few days of that debacle, I was on copious Michael Jackson drugs and out of it, but when I started to come to and realize what day it was, one of my first communications to my family after establishing what was going on healthwise, was to tell them to call Kristen and have her pick up my tickets at will call and go to the Tom Petty concert. [Tangent: In retrospect, the priorities seem a little fuckity...I mean I was on a ventilator and had a tube coming out of every hole in my body (and some places where holes weren't previously!), but I had spent good money on those tickets, and just because I couldn't go, didn't mean she had to miss it!] She went as instructedand told me all the time she felt super guilty about it. She wouldn't even tell me how it was...really until last night before we saw him again.
|pardon the shadows and my greasy forehead|
|all my photos looked like garbage, so I borrowed from The Nashville Scene|
It was fantastic and he played almost everything I wanted to hear! The encore closed with American Girl and the lights went red, white and blue and my endorphin levels shot through the roof of the Bridgestone Arena. So much happy. Tom Petty still has it and I still want to borrow his clothes and possibly marry him...but I will settle for being him when I grow up. [Tangent: Oh yea, Steve Winwood was there too...but we missed his entire set, so to make up for it...I watched this video when I got home.] It was definitely worth the wait.