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Knocked Over By A Feather

IT WAS A BIG FUCKING FEATHER…

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road trips

Ringo in Cincinnati

Seeing Ringo was an amazing experience, especially because he is so funny and full of love. He did his trademark peace sign and we all did it back to him.

We started off at 8 am. Our drive was pleasant, we listened to CD’s of Ringo and Sir Paul’s new collection, Pure McCartney.

We checked into our hotel room and took a nap. Then we went out to dinner. We found a breakfast bar, so I had a huge plate of food.

And then a second smaller one for good measure.

We left for the concert. It was weird because we were in Kentucky for 5 minutes and then swung back around into Ohio again.

The concert was at the PNC Pavilion, an open air venue. We found our seats easily enough and once we were comfy, we took this pretentious selfie.

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Yes, I wore makeup. 

Cheryl and I waited patiently for Ringo to appear. But it wasn’t just Ringo. He had a few guys with him to help out.

A dude from Mr. Mister.

A dude from Santana.

A dude from Toto.

And Todd Rundgren.

There was a mix of hits from all of these guys, including one of my favorite songs,  “Africa” by Toto.

Ringo took a few breaks in between his songs and playing drums. But, he is going to be 76 soon, so we can cut him some slack.

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We had really fab seats.

Also, no encore. Boo. It’s okay Ringo, I still love you, man.

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Here he is playing drums!

They played for a little over 2 hours, which was fine because people stood up every time Ringo sang. My legs were not happy campers. I had to take two 5 mg Vicodin and a muscle relaxer (for spasms.)

But entirely worth it. I won’t let fibromyalgia get in my way of seeing a Beatle.

I slept like baby when we got back to the hotel. They had upgraded us to a king size suite because Cheryl is an elite member of Marriott. We had two bathrooms!!

On the road back to my beloved hometown of Cleveland, we stopped and got some much needed coffee. It was smooth sailing on I-71 north.

So, to wrap things up, we had a great time.

Next on the agenda, Sir Paul will be here in Cleveland the day before my 42nd birthday, August 17th.

Time for me to recuperate. Have a great Friday!

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Zipping Around

My friend Cheryl decided yesterday, with the logic that this might be his last tour, to see Ringo Starr in Cincinnati on June 22. She asked me if I wanted to go, to which I replied, “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

They do, by the way.

I couldn’t afford to buy the ticket myself, but as per usual, she is just that awesome and fab. Looks like I will be getting a second chance to see Ringo, plus seeing both Beatles this summer, with Sir Paul in August right here in Cleveland.

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Aw!

I am really excited! I use my energy for important things like this.Totally worth the recuperating time afterwards.

But road trips are rough on me. I used to love them, but nowadays sitting in a car for hours at a time sucks the fucking life force out of me. Just another thing that I am slowly coming to terms with about my illness, traveling is not a joy anymore.

I am thinking about getting a mobility scooter, aka a zippy cart. Well, I’m going to look into how much they cost, anyways. I am not sure if Medicare would pay for one, I doubt it. (Medicare kind of sucks.) But it sure would make my life more pleasant.

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Beep beep, get outta my way asshat!

You don’t realize how much you miss walking easily until you can’t anymore.

If I had one, I could go to the Cleveland Zoo or to the flea market on the weekends. Both of those outings are a no can do now. Besides the pain in my legs, the weakness would eventually make me fall down and go boom.

I don’t mean to complain. (Yes I do.)

Hey, a little whining never hurt anybody.

Keep that in mind, my friends.

“It’s my party and I can whine if I want to.”

You would whine too if it happened to you. Unless you are a saint or something, in which case I say pfft.

I really wanted to do a Fuck It Friday post, but it just didn’t work out. Anyways, I hope you have a fab weekend.

Back in Ohio, where we call it pop, not soda

Maryland calls it soda.

Ohio calls it pop.

When I called the local pizza place from the hotel, I made sure not to screw it up, but it felt foreign to my tongue. The guy taking the order would have been either annoyed or confused as hell.

“What kind of pop….er, soda do you have?” I asked.

“Pepsi, Sprite, and Diet Pepsi.”

“Okay, I will take a 2 liter of Pepsi, then.”

We got back home on Friday at 6PM. It was easily the quickest road trip I have ever been on, but we made it. Both myself and my dear friend Cheryl were absolutely exhausted yesterday, and we are saving all of our energy to see Ringo this evening. I am already on my 3rd cup of coffee.

Our new puppy Maya made the trip home with flying colors. She slept most of the time, curled up next to my daughter in the back seat. She has already blended seamlessly into our household, and my darling Maggie has taken to her, which is what I had hoped for.

maya

More pictures to come, I promise. I have to go pick out which Beatles T-shirt to wear, so see you all soon.

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