Every year for the last 15 years I’ve asked N what he’d like to do for his birthday. I don’t usually get a whole lot of feedback or requests. A few years I even tried to plan things on my own. Don’t get me wrong. They turned out ok. We had fun in San Fran. But I blew the surprise over dinner before the trip was even finalized. To make matters more difficult, the guy’s birthday always falls right around Thanksgiving.
This year is different though. After coming home from a work trip to Vegas a month ago, N said, “I know what I want to do for my birthday.” After I got done choking on my tea, I asked him what he had in mind. It turned out to be a spur-of-the-moment (for us this is spur) trip out to the desert to see this band. Or should I say this man who claims this band as his.
That’s right. G N’ R. More specifically, Mr. W. Axl Rose’s updated iteration of the band. This would be our third time seeing him (them) in concert over the years. Given my propensity to jump around like a crazy jack-ass to Paradise City (dating back to 6th grade–now I’m dated), how could I refuse this birthday wish?
We turned it into a trip to Palm Springs for 4 nights and then Vegas for a crazy night of 3 hours of Axl going ape-shit, playing every tune in his book and then some (all I’ll say about this is, I love me some Pink Floyd. Seriously.). I gotta say, it was pretty spectacular. All of it. The sun, tennis and dinners outside and the marathon concert. All of this and his real birthday is still 3 weeks away. I’m still convinced, by the way, that I’m already at retirement age. I totally fit in in Palm Springs. I just need to purchase a golf cart and I’ll be all set….