On my bucket list of things I want to do before I die is to see Neil Young live, in concert. I'm a huge fan. He's one of the mainstays in the songlists on my iPod.
Tonight, courtesy of my friend and fellow attorney, Russ Heldman, I had three tickets to see Neil Young at the Ryman Auditorium. I met my friend, Mike Matteson, and a new attorney in our office, Alison Prestwood, for dinner at Urban Flats, with plans to go to the concert afterwards. We had a couple of beers over dinner and talked music, all of us really looking forward to seeing Neil Young in concert.
After dinner, we piled into Mike's car, drove into downtown and parked in a lot near the Ryman. We arrived at the gate a couple of minutes before the show was set to start. The ticket lady took my ticket and tried to scan it, unsuccessfully. She looked at the ticket, looked at me, and said, "this ticket is for last night's show."
My response? "Oh shit."
No Neil Young, not tonight, anyway.
Damn.
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