(Note: Hoosier, by St. Louis definition, is characterized by trashy ways and all around ghettoness. Totally different from Indiana.)
I was driving around yesterday, when I realized it was a choral show on my trusty NPR. Not that I'm not a seriously cultured woman, but choral performances just doesn't get my veins pumpin'. So, I flip to a country station.
And I hear Willie Nelson, crooning that I was always on his mind. I get excited because normally country stations don't play old songs. My mind gets all settled in to enjoy the rest of the ballad. (You see, I love Willie Nelson. I struggle daily to balance a deeply rooted inner redneck with a supposedly classy and erudite woman. Underneath a facade of hot glue, foie gras and New York Times articles, I'm hiding "extra" Arby's sauce packets, an Alan Jackson CD, and a deep and abiding love for getting sunburnt and rowdy at lakes.)
But, wait! A booming announcer's voice interrupts the melody.
"Experience it live: Willie Nelson and Family, coming to the Seven Flags Events Center on March 28th."
GAH! Pulse quickens. That's semi-nearish to my house. And. Oh. Holy. Cow. It's on my birthday. Sold.
Now, I need Wheel of Fortune to film in Des Moines that day, too and I just might be the hap-hap-happiest girl in town.