Texas or bust
As soon as I saw this show on the tour schedule, I really wanted to go. Well, okay, as soon as I see every show on the schedule, I really want to go. But this was the first 2003 show, and I'd never been to Texas, so it was calling me more than most. As late as three weeks before the show date, when I was in Tahoe, I was still saying I might go. Somewhere between the first and second Tahoe shows, I suddenly noticed that I was telling people I was going to Texas! I almost had a roommate three times, but between work, plane fare and sickness, none of them could make it. So, just me, myself and I on this trip!
Getting there is always a story in itself, for me anyway. I almost never fly out of Boston, but this time the fare was cheaper and there was the attraction of a non-stop flight. With the small airports I usually fly in and out of, I never have the luxury of getting on a plane and getting off that same plane at my actual destination. So going directly from Boston to Dallas/Fort Worth sounded like a great plan!
Sounded great until 4:30 am on the morning of the show, which is the time I had to leave my house to get to Logan airport in time for my early flight. I won't go into the details of New England roads, and how you have to get on 95 North to go south. I'm also trying to forget that this is the second time the phrase "Big Dig" has been a factor in one of my Styx show stories (it made me miss Joe Stark's entire set at the Boston show in 2001), and it looks like I learned nothing from the first experience. Long story semi-short, after being forced to detour off of the Mass Pike (on which I was even going in the correct direction for once), while driving through Boston's Chinatown at 6:30 am, at which time there IS horn-honking traffic, I was thinking just one thing: this was better than a layover in Philadelphia HOW exactly?
Finally though, I pulled into the long-term parking garage only twenty minutes later than I had planned. The levels of the garage have a historic/Boston theme. While waiting for the elevator to go to the terminal, there is a recording playing that tries to give you a memory association for the name of the level where you parked. The recorded voice reminded me that I was on the Minuteman level, and then began to read me the Longfellow poem, "Paul Revere's Ride." As I wondered if I would remember "Minuteman" or if I should find some paper and write it down, I heard, "Listen my children and you shall hear of the Midnight Ride... of Paul Revere." Okay, I added the emphasis myself, but I knew that one was in my memory for a while, no paper required. As long as I didn't get confused and go looking for the Equinox level of the parking garage when I got back, I was all set.