New Years Eve

Well, today is Snow Day #2. I’m pretty sure I’ve been in my pajamas for almost 48 consecutive hours now and feel very little remorse. Over the course of the past two days I’ve managed to do a ton of laundry, ate breakfast in bed, shoveled the driveway, finished reading Dress Your Family in Corduroy And Denim, ate lunch in bed while watching music videos, played in the snow, learned how to work my video software at a very amateur level, edited and organized a ton of photos, did yoga, and of course, monitored my work email. It’s been like a mini vacation, but one that forces you to stay home and catch up on all the rest and relaxation you always complain about needing, but that there is never a good time for.

So, New Years Eve…..

We went to Georgia as we normally do, but instead of hitting Greg & Lisa’s annual NYE party, Tom got us tickets to The PunchLine in Atlanta. I had never been to a comedy show before so I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I had sort of imagined a struggling comedian with awkward delivery and poor stage presence, but I was totally wrong. There were two opening acts, one being Flip Schultz, and one headliner, Dale Jones. I can’t remember who the other opening act was, probably because he fell more in line with my original vision and brought more crickets than laughs. Dale Jones was a semi-finalist from season 6 of the Last Comic Standing and was hilarious and crazy.
After getting our laughs in we went to dinner with Ryan’s dad, sister Madison, uncle Joe, uncle Mike & his partner Joanne. We were finished with dinner well before midnight. Now, this is where things get interesting. NYE is not really one of those occasions that you can really fly by the seat of your pants. We had already ended up dining at a desolate Mexican restaurant instead of the rockin’ bar and grill across the street which had been our original destination of choice. Given our current location and the likelyhood of finding a respectable establishment to bring in the New Year, we focused on the next best choice which would really only have to meet a modest set of criteria. Booze and some music. Oh, and of course, some coverage of the peach drop. Now, when you’re desperate and find yourself setting the bar this low, you are bound to end up with wild success. Why? Well you really don’t care where you are. You are more concerned with who you're with and just having a good time. The name of the bar is Rudy’s and it’s a biker bar. And a honky tonk. In Georgia. And it reminded me of home. Enough said.