Monday, August 22, 2016

Pearl Jam - 2016

We took a break from our regularly scheduled parenting duties for 24 hours this weekend to check of a bucket list item. Pearl Jam is one of Jayson's favorite bands of all time (not gonna lie, I mildly got into the grunge bands of the 90s, but Eddie Vedder has gotten sooooo much better with age). We've both also wanted to go to Wrigley Field forever! So on Saturday we combined the 2 into one and saw Pearl Jam perform at Wrigley Field.
And randomly we found out some old friends of ours were there from MN!! We got to have drinks before the show with them and found out they will be in Nashville in a couple weeks for the Vikings game - definitely added to the coolness of the whole weekend.
I lucked out on our tickets because the guy liked me (truly - I bought them an hour before the show and the guy literally had the table behind us willing to pay double what I was going to spend). And the seats were AWESOME!
The whole place was amazing - and when they sung "All the Way" at the end you could feel the fans and the history of the place.
But the very last song . . . After 3.5 hours I could say it was a great show . . . But the last song . . . Who knew it was a dream of mine to scream/sing "Baba O'Riley" at Wrigley Field?!?! I know now!

On the way home, naturally we didn't want it to end . . . so we grabbed a quick lunch in Louisville and stopped into the Jim Beam Stillhouse - it's their urban distillery.
And how could we pass up bottling our own bourbon??? I mean, Jim Beam is the commemorative drink of our first date!
There's no telling really how long the bourbon will be in the bottle . . . So we engraved the bottle too!
Definitely 24 hours of a lifetime that will never be forgotten . . . and that was the point . . . while in my mind we are "old", in the grand scheme of things we aren't. But as long as I try to fight getting old, I don't think we ever will be. And spontaneity can truly be the destroyer of the negative effects of aging . . . at least that's what I tell myself . . . 

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