New Year’s Eve.  Amateur Night, as they say.  Overindulgence by those other than respected and responsible party pros.  Overconfidence and enthusiasm abounding behind wheels of death machines, as my Dad used to call them when we were growing up.

My original plan was to stay home and cozy up for some memoir writing with a glass of wine, maybe a cybertrip to for some cool new something, something.  Until I felt the wild hair at 8 pm.  I ripped myself away from my computer, did a 7 minute New Year’s Eve ‘Glamour Up’ job, and hit the street to go watch my honey perform at a brand new place in Park City.

There was no way I was going to drive, so the city bus was the only logical option.  I grabbed a flashlight to lighten the dark and icy path to the bus stop about 100 yards away, hills included. Very tricky walk indeed.

I was relieved to get to the bus stop in one piece and questioned the whole spontaneous adventure thing.  Did I mention it was cold?  Like 9 degrees? A young person at the bus stop was nose down into his cell phone and immediately informed me that we had one minute to go for the bus to arrive. OK, then.

I arrived at the venue, and found it to be exceptionally cool.  Tupelo’s (named after Tupelo Honey by Van Morrison).  I found Steve performing upstairs in the bar area, so I perched myself on a bar stool that had the exact view of the featured photo on this blog.

I heard a woman a few seats away inform the bartender, “The music is fabulous.”

The bartender replied, “Yes, it is.”

And it was.  Steve is such a great talent and performer.  He learned the song Tupelo Honey song for this brand new restaurant/bar and played it beautifully.  I thought he sounded better than Van Morrison.  I know I’m not alone.

Meanwhile, Michigan State was getting slaughtered by Alabama – final 38-0.  Monster Ouch!!  Second worse slaughter in history for this stage of the competition or whatever the horrific stat was.  I felt the humiliation of my homies and shared sentiment with the peeps next to me.

It turned out that the woman sitting to my right was the daughter of a musician that played with Buddy Holly and the Crickets.  I immediately felt the hugeness and sadness of what she was sharing with me… and I had to ask the question because I sensed she wanted me to ask.

My eyes welled up as I asked, “Did he get on the plane?”  She said no and proceeded to give me the detailed inside scoop on exactly what happened.  Wow.

She said no and proceeded to give me the detailed inside scoop on exactly what happened.  Wow. Whew….and double Whew!

We were home just in time for the ball to drop in Times Square.  Although it was hard to tell exactly what was going on.  The ball was replaced by something fancier, but we were there, nevertheless 🙂

So, yes. It turned out to be an amazing New Year’s Eve.  One glass of wine.  Excellent music.  Rich conversation.  The proverbial wild hair had paid off.  It could have resulted in a burr in my saddle (Ha ha…sorry) …but no, it was a fantastic way to end 2015 with a bonus message.

It’s time to celebrate….we didn’t get on the plane.