Despite being about as addled as a group of folks can be, I guess we pulled it off yet again.
Many thanks to my co-sponsors- Swobo, Paul Component Engineering, and Ritte Bicycles. Of course thanks to Ruben the booking guy, DJ Fish, The Backstage Bar, and Lady Sinatra, and the good folks who came out for the bash without whom I woulda just been left standing around in a parking lot listening to myself breathe.
Anyhoo, for those who weren’t there, I’ll first offer Gypsy’s perspective on the debacle in the desert;
The concert ended a good 12+ hours ago, and my ears are still ringing. Lady Sinatra tore it up. Things got a little fuzzy about half way through, but here is what I remember…
Then you climbed up on stage, introduced the band, and I took this video of the opening song.
(Sorry for the lousy audio… Lady Sinatra is not afraid to turn the volume up, and the mic on my phone was completely overwhelmed.)
Then, the band blew the lid off of the joint. No way to describe it. They were fantastic.
My wife and I staggered out into the street, and spent the next two hours visiting every bar between the concert and our hotel. In case you didn’t know, there are quite a few bars in that neighborhood…
When we finally got back to our hotel, we crowded into an elevator with a whole bunch of blurry people. One of the blurry people was holding a big silver trophy. Apparently he had just been voted “Number 1 Street Rider of the Year.” I tried desperately to pull my phone out and take a picture of him and his bad ass trophy, but my left hand was holding a giant to-go box of nachos, and my right hand was holding an open bottle of pink champagne (don’t ask me… I have absolutely no idea where it came from). I tried to hold the mouth of the bottle in my mouth, and dig into my pocket with my now free hand, but the bubbles popped and fizzed up into my sinuses, and I sneezed champagne all over the elevator (and the blurry people in it). Being the professional that I am, I did not drop the champagne bottle, but I did fail to get a picture of the BMX bad ass.
*Amendment*- It was this guy that I blew champagne boogers on.
He was the number 1 flatlander, not the number 1 street rider… Cut me some slack. I was barely on the planet when I saw him.
So that’s kinda how it went down. At least for one person.