Tomorrow, The Delusional Grandeur Tour: Last Stand of a Rock Star hits its first New York City stop, with my friend Chris as Guest Manager. What he lacks in punctuality he makes up for in spirit, and he is one of the few people who consistently restores my faith in humanity when it’s faltering. This weekend we are spending an evening at ‘Queen of the Night’ (which requires ‘Gala Attire’ – fine for me, but often an issue for others, including the guy who wore the same blue t-shirt for at least two semesters of college). Following that, the night is wide open, and the Tour rolls on with the same piss and pizzazz we’ve employed since the first time we met two decades ago. Chris had long hair then, but the same wide-eyed exuberance for changing the world that he does now. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the kid dressed head-to-toe in silver sequins (well, actually he did – he said I looked like a bug, which I’ll attribute to my wrap-around sunglasses and nothing else). I wasn’t sure what to make of the flannel-wearing, pony-tail dangling, baggy-jeaned visage before me either. I’m pretty sure neither of us foresaw any sort of friendship developing, certainly not one that has so richly informed my life over the years.
That’s the best part of life: those unexpected surprises that deliver the people we most need when we don’t even realize how much we were missing.
Our next adventure is about to begin… New York here we come.
