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So, Sunday was both really cool and really uncool. First: the cool.

The Doane Choir had its last concert of the season. It was also the last concert for my sister, and the last concert for Larry Monson. I had the privilege of working with him as a director from the time I was in 8th grade, which is when I first joined the Homestead Harmonizers. An absolute class act all around. And, of course, a Doane Choir concert wouldn't be complete without Larry getting misty. If there were any doubts as to whether he was getting choked up or not, all I had to do was look at my sister, as she gets the giggles when he gets weepy. Mission accomplished.

After the concert, I saw my friend Rachel Boynton. Cute as ever, and, sadly (for me, not for her), married. Anyhow, we were bound and determined to hang out. While she did go to Doane, and doubtless spent some time in Lincoln, she's been gone for about 5 years. So, I was picked to be her navigator. I suck at Lincoln, but anywhere we needed to go was easy to find. Rachel's connections to the Monson family are deeper than mine -- Larry's daughter Anne was Rachel's voice teacher before college. So, when Rachel moved from Boston to Nebraska, she had a surrogate family in place. They'd not seen each other in years, so, naturally, they had some catching up to do. Larry's wife, LaVonne, invited us to their house for a reception (after the reception. Too damned many receptions.). So, I led the way. Rachel and I were the first to arrive, and wound up hanging out in front of the Monson's house for at least half an hour before anyone else arrived. This would not have been a big deal, except for one thing:

My friend Liz invited Rachel and I to see a band at Duggan's Pub. The first opener hit the stage at 7. We arrived at the Monson's at 6:30. Now, this also wouldn't be a big problem except for one other thing:

I had invited my friend Teresa to go to the show as well. Now, because of absolutely terrible logistical skillz on my part, I had already fucked up once. Geoff was in a play. Teresa and I were going to go see this play on Sunday. I had forgotten about the choir concert. I couldn't miss the concert. So, while the tickets weren't wasted, I wound up standing Teresa up. This was the first instance. For that day.

Around 7, Teresa calls me. I explain that Rachel and I will not be at Duggan's at 7, but will be delayed. "Call me when you're on your way," says Teresa. I agree to do so.

Eventually, the Monson's show up, and we begin recepting. Small crowd -- mostly Monson's, along with Rachel, myself, and two other Doane alums. So, we're recepting, but we can't find a non-asshole time to jet. Around 10, the time presents itself. After many goodbyes, we hit the road. I call Teresa as instructed, but don't get an answer. I leave a voicemail letting her know what's up.

Get to Duggan's. Liz is tuh-rashed. Apparently, the previous acts were lame. "Math rock instrumentalists," said Liz. I call Mike, to see if he wants to see The A-Frames, the band that was "headlining". "Can't. Broke. That's why I'm not bowling with Geoff and Teresa."

Well, shit. Looks like that's twice in one day.

Band plays, people drink and dance, then it's decided that Karaoke is needed. I call Teresa, leave another voicemail, and we head to First Ave.

Drinks are drunk, Karaoke is sung, and a good time was had by all. Over to Roofie House we head -- Rachel, Liz, Geoff and I. More drinks, boxing, loud talking, blah blah blah until 2:30. Rachel and I go to sleep on our respective couches. Beforehand, I point out to Rachel that we are about a mile from the airport. Easy as hell to get there. "What time do you want the alarm set for?"

Rachel's flight out of Lincoln Municipal Airport is 8:00 AM. Lincoln Municipal has 4 gates. It is not a major hub, and is rarely busy. "5:00 AM," says Rachel. I'm doubtful, but Rachel's cute, and I don't want her to miss her flight, so, 5:00 AM it is. So, after our nap, Liz (who disappeared at some point) comes back. Fortunately, Geoff forgot to lock the door, so she was there to wake us up.

Ugh.

Three drunk people going to Perkins at 6:00 AM. Then to an airport. Then back to houses. Then to bed.

Up at 11:30 for me. Watching TV, blah blah blah. Get a text message from Teresa, inquiring about lunch. Lunch is had.

And, I am berated. Deservedly so. (If you couldn't tell, this is the not cool part of the weekend, as it involves me being an asshole, however inadvertently.) So, I'll probably be in the shits there for awhile. Not cool. Even after all the ego-stroking that went on this weekend.

Also -- sorry to Matty and Amanda and anyone else that I didn't wind up drinking with Sunday. Kee-rist, having a full dance card is fun, but someone always winds up getting screwed. So, if there's anyone else I screwed this weekend, I extend heartfelt appy-polly-loggies. But, if anyone wound up getting screwed because I wasn't there, well, you know who to thank.
posted by Grant Bennett at 12:31 AM