What I did for Love

My apologies for not posting recently... I've been staring fixedly at a looming storm cloud that has been approaching menacingly for weeks now to the ominous strains of a bassoon-and-drum-laden soundtrack. Yes, the ultimate horror is about to be unleashed. Those with weak constitutions or young children may wish to surf to a different blog immediately.

Are you ready for this? Nitroglycerine pills in order, last meal eaten, etc.? Okay, here goes:

I'm going to a Barry Manilow concert tonight.

There. I've said it. I married a fan of "Mr. Copa" and she decided that I simply had to accompany her to his concert at the Nassau Mausoleum. Never mind that I never made her go to see Rush, or force her to sit through Word Wars; I've gotta sit through two hours of music that I don't know and don't wanna know (the odds of him doing "Marry Me a Little," the one Sondheim cover that he's recorded, are pretty long, methinks). Not only that, but we gotta see him in the sound-distorting barn that is the Coliseum, which means that the show is gonna probably be twice as loud as it needs to be (What the sound engineer did to Billy Joel and Elton John there is deserving of tortures beyond imagination... wait, he'll probably be at this show too! Nevermind...)

I just finished my penance on Yom Kippur; I can't possibly have lapsed so much as to deserve this...