My Morning Jacket, My Dad, and My Goon that Won't Sleep

I'm up typing at 1:47 am because there's a little girl who's been yelling to beat the band back in the bedroom for the past hour and a half. Not really crying - just an incessant yell that's so much more nerve-grating than a cry. After she'd been at it for a while and it had escalated I decided to check her diaper and, sure enough, it needed my attention. Since that's no longer the case I could stand it no more. I'm frustrated because I'm tired. I got home at 11:30 from a concert where I'd been on my feet for five hours straight and wanting nothing more than to get some solid sleep. She refused her afternoon nap so I should've expected this.

I need to focus on the positive, though. At 6 o'clock Buggy and I drove down to the zoo after hitting the farmers' market at the Phipps Conservatory (returning with two sweet pounds of red Russian kale with which to make kale chips, a new favorite of Buggy's, and hot dogs in our basket) to pick up Rob so I could make it down to Stage AE to meet up with the "Other Rob", Rob Magnien (my dad's good buddy and former longtime boss), his son, and son's girlfriend, for a My Morning Jacket show. This was my first time seeing them and Rob's dozenth. The guy is a nut for this band. I've always loved that level of fanaticism and appreciate it even more when it doesn't wane with age. My dad and Rob are seeing the guys play on Friday in Maryland. Doors opened at 6:30 and I was trying to make it there as close to that as possible since I know Rob's penchant for scoring the choicest spots in the house (on the rail, preferably, at the feet of Jim James). Rob called to say that they were close to the front of the line. I was just a few minutes' walk away but didn't spot them in the line. Who I did spot was my dad! (I know - this called for two words italicized in one sentence). It all made sense, since my mother, with whom I'd chatted on my way over to the venue, had placed a little more emphasis than usual on my upcoming concert venture, even saying something along the lines of, "Who knows what surprises await you..." I certainly didn't know what she was talking about, though did find it sort of strange for her to be saying (thinking it was far more along the lines of something my dad would say. So I guess it made sense). Even my dad didn't know he'd be coming until an hour before he and Rob left; they'd hatched the plan late the night before, but my dad had hemmed and hawed; he had a workshop to attend, it was his son't birthday ("All the more reason for you to go see My Morning Jacket!," was Rob's rationale. My dad was sold). So there I was, spending the most delightful evening we'd had in months, weather-wise, being treated to several hours full of the positively golden voice of Jim James in the fine company of two of my favorite 50-somethings.

Not only am I glad I took these videos for posterity purposes, but they'll also provide some much-needed entertainment now that Olive has decided that sleeping isn't really for her (she woke a six to commence her awful hollering for two hours. She went down for her afternoon nap nearly two hours ago - not that she's having any of it). How quickly things changed from her placid state two nights ago!