I've come to the conclusion that all the troubles I've been having for the past couple of weeks can be traced to one thing.

I did not go to the "Rock Never Stops" show at the House of Blues in Myrtle Beach last Sunday night.

I was driving past the place on my way to the gym in the morning, and saw the big blinky sign that scrolls through the upcoming shows. "ROCK NEVER STOPS", it informed me unnecessarily. I mean, DUH. ; ) Then, it blinked "RATT, QUIET RIOT, CINDERELLA and FIREHOUSE. LIVE". Rock NEVER STOPS, indeed. I thought immediately that I had to go. I figured it would be a perfect day - my first day of vacation ever where I got up and exercised voluntarily, and then a metal show at night. Hello, this would be one for the archives.

I love all kinds of music, but anyone who knows me now and didn't then would likely be surprised to note that I was a full-on metalhead in the 80s, and have seen Poison live about as many times as I've seen the Indigo Girls. I was at the end of high school and college then, and it was just the most fun thing going. And when I say fun, I mean dudes like Trixter and White Lion. Metallica does not count, and nor do Van Halen, Def Leppard or the Scorpions. This was music. There was hair, but no makeup, for God's sake. Of course, I was also obsessed with Tracy Chapman's Fast Car (cool photo on this site, by the way) and Cinderella's Long Cold Winter at the same time ("Coming Home" is a GREAT song! ROCK NEVER STOPS! ; ) ) So I've always had that versatility going for me, which is kinda nice.

I went back to the condo all charged up to go, but as the day went on, we drifted into other things. "Rock never stops!" I said to my sister, who agreed in a general sense, but seemed less than enthused about finding out how, and went back to the beach. Plans (and margaritas) were made. We went to dinner, and it turned out the tickets were 30 bucks, anyway. I knew no one would go with me, and I did go down there to spend time with my family. So we ended up at the outside bar, and listened to the music there. It was fun, but you know, covers of "Play That Funky Music" and "Word Up", and a ten minute version of the Electric Slide were not exactly indicators of the longevity of rock 'n roll. Not, of course, like Stephen Pearcy croaking out "Round and Round" would have been. I was really curious about whether or not he still had THOSE PANTS.

Anyway, things kind of hit a downward spiral after that. Vacation wasn't a joyride, and since I've been home, I've been doing things like pulling into one gas station (on empty, naturally) that has all of the pumps covered with plastic bags, only to go to another one with lines that rival the 70s fuel crisis. I couldn't get my foot ANY farther in my mouth than I have in the past week, and even today, I tried to do something nice for someone at work and it turns out...eh, it wasn't exactly the right thing to do. The full moon last night might explain it, cause things do tend to get a little wild around this time. But although I may overrate the healing powers of two hours of listening to middle-aged men in makeup screaming three-chord tunes, I think maybe the Rock Never Stops show could have set things on a different course.

Or at least I like to think so.