Three Days Grace and a Mom, plus Trucking Dreams

(ok, I was trying a play on words/band...forgive me) Well, as reported yesterday, I was taking my son and his friend, Brad, to Speed Street to see Three Days Grace. Since Styx started at 10 and their band at 10:30, I was going to park them in front of their stage and make my way down to mine. However, two hours before we were to leave, Z asks if another friend could come along. Since Troy's house is in the opposite direction of the way we were going, plus he lives off of a street that is close to the race track and usually made oneway on race days, I said yes, if his dad could drop him over here. Then Troy could just spend the night and I'd bring him home the next morning. Initially, when Troy asked his parents(read...Mom) the answer was no. But I guess upon further reflection, she decided she'd at least talk to me first to see what was up. Her first question was if I was going to stay with the boys, or leave them at the stage and wander off. geez...I told her I would stay with them. Now, Brad is seventeen, and Troy and Z are sixteen. I'm thinking to myself, they're old enough to watch and band and meet me in a predesignated place(which would have been the library, right by their stage). I'm amazed at some of these mothers. I mean, I know things were more simple when I was that age, but man, I was driving and hanging out with my friends on the main strip at sixteen. These kids still have us moms drive them everywhere. Of course, the driving permit for 18 and under are much stricter here. But still, surely they have ONE friend that drives.

Ok, off the subject as I often do. Let's face it, I'm the cool mom. Z thinks Mark and I are digging into his culture when it comes to music, but actually, it's him who digs into ours. I mean, I was standing six rows back at a Primus concert when he was only three. Again, off the subject.

We had a good time. I made all three boys stand for two songs of Styx with me. It was the least they could do. And I was happy because the first song was Blue Collar Man. Troy placed his hand over his heart in a mock gesture of being touched. I didn't care, even though there were beers and lighters hoisted in the air by the old timers who were suddenly telaported back to their youth.

We made our way through the crowd to the other stage and managed to find a pretty good viewing spot. I noticed two people standing on a bench behind me, with half the bench being taken by a group of drivers' photos(which you can get at their shops, for God's sake). I stepped up on the bench anyway(hey lady, their for people not for photos) and she acted like how dare I? Well, how dare her for being a bench hog. The twist was, they didn't even belong to her or her boyfriend, but to one of their friends several feet in front of us.

Anyhow, the boys stood a ways in front of me, oblivious to my pressence, but what the hell. I had a good time and did a little head banging myself. Somehow, I doubt either Brad or Troy's mom would have done the same(and let's face it, they didn't even take them, I did).

My biggest concern was keeping us all together in the crowd as we made our way back to the car. At one point, the crowd flowed naturally like a stream down the alley. I had to keep looking behind me to check heads. Troy was directly behind me, and Z's head was easy to see with his brown Reggae hat, but Brad was the tough one. He just walked as if in a daze, not really paying attention to where he was going, or where he was. Once we got past the alley, Z turned around to see that Brad was not behind him. Brad, instead, had just moved with the current and Z had to run half way down the alley to bring him back.

With my intimate knowlege of Uptown, we avoided the traffic and quickly made our way home, The Toadies blasting from the stereo as we jammed our asses off.

About a month ago, our African brother entered truck driving school. After reseaching many fields, he figured this was the quickest and best way to make good money. It works for him, being a widower. He past his school in record time and with flying colors. Last Sat he took off for Tennessee for an orientation with a trucking firm. They had a few days of school and then had to take the company's test. Half the participants were sent home, having failed. But our brilliant Ibriham passed and is now motoring his way to Calif. He must spend a month driving with another company driver to complete his training. I'm excited for him, because he's only seen the Eastern side of the U.S. As most of us know, East and West in the U.S. is like traveling from one country to another. They are so different. When he called yesterday, he was in Colorado and was really enjoying seeing the new scenery. I think when he gets to Nevada and Calif, he'll like that the best. With the desert out there, it's a lot like his homeland(the Sahara takes up a good portion of his country). Mark my word, our industrious friend will own his own rig, and probably a few more, within five years.

That's it for now. It's time for Hell's Kitchen so I gotta run!