I Still Remember When 30 Was Old

I shall never grow up. Make believe is much too fun.

We drove two and a half hours to Tyler on Friday night, to see one of my favorite bands perform a small show at an intimate venue. We've had several opportunities to do same over the past couple of years, but we've always wimped out. We're tired, it's the end of the week, it's a long way to drive for a couple of hours of music, we're old, etc, etc, ad nauseum.

But this time we finally did it. We did it the way we would have done it back in college, driving after work (it would have been class back then), with snacks packed into the car, great music blaring. Rocking out at the show and then driving back through the late night. East Texas country roads are pretty deserted after midnight it seems. Stopping at Whataburger in Corsicana for late-night breakfast tacos.

After all, my big 3-0 day is looming. Just about a week left. So it may be my last chance to do something so spontaneous, impulsive, and irresponsible.

Or not. Apparently there is some life in me yet.