Back in the Nineties, my husband and I had no idea the other existed but even if we had attended the same high school, there would be a 0% chance we'd have ever dated. We probably wouldn't have even been friends.

Even twenty-five years later, we couldn't be more different. He loves sports - especially football. I'm all... football, football, what's a football?! He isn't a big bread (or carbs) guy. I'm all... PASTA IS LIFE! His 90s jam is Snoop Dog and Dr. Dre. Mine is more Smashing Pumpkins and Green Day.

I love 90s alt-rock (aka music that was popular when I was in high school). If I had to make a soundtrack of my life... 90% of it would just be DMB, Gin Blossoms, Goo Goo Dolls, and Counting Crows. (Mirror mirror on the wall, I am my parents after all.) So, when I saw that after a long 2020 that one of my all-time favoritest bands in the whole entire dang world, Counting Crows, was going to be performing in Franklin, TN, I almost peed my pants.  I’m such an unabashed fan, that 20 years in, Counting Crows is top of my Saturday morning cleaning playlist. (Listen, that’s the gold standard when you are a middle-aged woman.)

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I immediately sent him the link because I wanted to go (so so so) badly. I've seen a lot of my favorite bands in concert but never CC because every time I buy tickets, something catastrophic happens and I can't go. I call it - the Curse of the Crows! It's real, okay people! To my ultimate surprise and elation, my wonderful sweet husband bought us tickets that almost guaranteed that we'd be sprayed with Adam Duritz's brow sweat. Let's just say he's not a superfan like me so he bought them for me because he really REALLY loves me. Which is pretty adorable, I think.

I took today off work and we planned on leaving out right after my daughter went to school. I was about to pack my bag last night when she came home and looked downright pathetic. She didn't feel well and you know what that means - quarantine for 10 days! POOP BALLS! Curse of the Crows strikes again.

I'll admit. I cried a little. I am heartbroken. But I'm more concerned with making sure my little girl is okay and we all know how important it is to have your mom around when you feel crappy.

My amazing co-workers did their best to cheer me up. The #TBT match-up was between "Mr. Jones" and "Follow You Down." I'm happy to report Team Bobby/Ashley won and Mr. Jones got to play his grey guitar on the radiowaves this morning.

We didn't get the insurance because... I always get the insurance and not once have I used it. Typical right? Nadafinga! Dang curse. So if you see a bald guy and his gorgeous blond wife at a Counting Crows concert in Franklin, TN, having the time of their lives tonight, just know that was supposed to be ME! ME! ME! I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THERE WITH THEM! I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DRINKING OVERPRICED BEER AND SINGING LONG DECEMBER AND ELEVATOR BOOTS AND ROUND HERE!

But that's life.

So Counting Crows, thank you for the new music this past year and for providing a soundtrack for the past 20. Maybe someday the curse will be broken and I'll sit next to Mr. Jones right up front and center. Until then, we'll just have to dance party at home tonight and appreciate the fact that I get to hold my little girl tight and help her feel better tomorrow.

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