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At the beginning of the night I felt old. Barrett and I drove after work to Austin to catch Chevelle at Stubb’s. The whole town is absolutely crawling with young college folks attending UT… unfortunately, the female variety are the most noted. I always told Erin… “the best ting about being a dirty old man is that you get dirtier and older by the second”. Anyhoo, despite having a libido that would put most of these little whatchamadoodles in the hospital, I was there for a concert and nothing more… or so I thought. The show was incredible. The Chevelle brothers rocked the house and then some. After the show, we met a bunch (and I mean *a bunch*) of Barrett’s friends on 6th street. They were all much much younger than me but one. By chance, it was his (the peer) birthday tonight. I felt right at home buying him some birthday libations. So, long story short, I thought we were going to hang on 6th and shut the bars down, et al… *cough*… I was oh so wrong. They all cowered and ran home to hide under the covers. I feel robbed. A fantabulous show followed by nothing less than premature ejaculation on the 6th street scene. I guess no one parties like they used to… especially when it’s there all the time to partake. Barrett is passed out in the room and I’m feeling like this trip was built up way more in my mind than it should have been. Even though the concert was RYFOLAMF, I am left feeling like I should have stayed and watched DVR’d shit from my couch. At least my babies are safe and sound at Georgia’s house while I’m away. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough for me to speed home. This trip was less than optimal.