Little Steven bids us all a good night. The crowd is staggering off the field. We call Bryan on his cell phone. He tells us that he's lost a lens from his eyeglasses. We meet up by the sound board and head back to the car. He's euphoric and full of war stories and I'm mostly deaf and exhausted and royally pissed off about his glasses. I summon up enough energy to give him hell for a few minutes, but then I want to hear about Iggy. We'll finish the eyeglass conversation tomorrow. For now, we have a long drive home ahead of us.
Going into this, I wasn't sure I had the stamina to endure a 12-hour day. As it turns out, I didn't. It took me all day Sunday and most of Monday to recover. Jim, who knows enough to wear earplugs, fared slightly better. On Monday, I had to drive Bryan to the optician's to get his lens replaced. On the way, I explained to him who Edd "Kookie" Byrnes is. If Little Steven does this again next year, I'll be there.