. I'm just so psyched, I might even get close. Even at the back I'll be close. Up front I'll be doing that crazy hand jive, like Jerry's notes, only JK's, JC's, Phil's, JR's, vocals, and even Bobby's.
One of my favorite shows was The Allman Brothers at the House of Blues in New Orleans, mid nineties. Amazing sound, excellent set list, the bottom of the crouton bag was a little strong coming on, but it all worked out. Tickets were sold-out well in advance as it was during Jazz Fest. I was walking around finger in the air, which never meant miracle to me, just needed one, and figured pointing up w/ dedication couldn't be bad. Eventually, the back stage door opened up, I guess they wanted fresh air. Guy comes out and asks me if I'll watch his stool. I watched it till he came back out. I was boogieing, walking, and running all day at Jazz fest, twelve hours later there was about nothing better than a stool. He came back after twenty, after asking, I sat upon said stool for thirty-five minuets. He came back and asked if I wanted a ticket? . . . There was one for me at will-call, face value. He never even asked me to watch the door, perhaps he and others were just inside. Unreal, though very real. One of many "miracle" tickets. Never could make a plan, though I can plan a house, or any facility like nobody's business, praise be to the Almighty.