Settle In, It's Gonna Be a Long One.

Oh, boy. It’s been an eventful two weeks in my life. On Friday the 18th I went to see Dierks Bentley and Brad Paisley in concert. This was the much anticipated final installment in the Summer 2009 Concert Series. Summer 2009 was not as stellar as Summer 2008, but would hold its own against any competing concert series from the early 2000s. Mainly because I never went to any concerts until I moved to Colorado due to the fact that I had a paralyzing fear of spending money on anything entertaining and/or gratifying before I moved to Colorado.

Colorado Micah, however, seems to have no problem sinking in debt in the name of frivolity.

So, because I spend money like it’s going out of style, I found myself at the Brad Paisley concert. Lemme just tell you, Brad Paisley was fantastic. I have never bought any of his albums because I get tired of his songs being overplayed on the radio. However, seeing him live made me a lifelong, devoted fan. He is so real and genuine and I love his playful stage presence.

The next morning, after a restful six minutes of sleep, my friend Alecia and I boarded a plane and embarked on a journey to Arkansas for the Hogs’ SEC opener against Georgia. We were able to watch the Hogs get stomped from the 40 yard line about 20 rows up. My dad scored us some fantastic seats. Despite the loss, I was thrilled to see a Bulldog fan wearing these bad boys:
Alecia was able to capture this picture on the fly, but unfortunately could not snap a picture of the even classier black and white gingham version that yet another Bulldog fan was sporting. To sum up, the MAN was wearing GINGHAM SHORTS with TINY LITTLE bulldogs EMBROIDERED into the GINGHAM FABRIC. Wrap your mind around that one.

When it was time for us to return to Colorado on Monday night, we were thwarted by a deluge which decided to park itself directly over Northwest Arkansas Regional Airport right around the time our plane was to land from Denver. The plane never came, so we got to turn right around and drive back to Fort Smith. Except we couldn’t drive back to Fort Smith because of the aforementioned deluge. So we exited I-540 at Chester.

Little known fact for you: The Chester exit happens to be the lowest point between Fayetteville and Fort Smith. Something to keep in mind should you ever decide to exit the interstate during a cloudburst: You will not be able to get back onto the interstate because the entrance and exit ramps will be flooded. Then, if you’re anything like us, you’ll spend the next several hours playing a very entertaining game of “How deep is that river running across the on-ramp?” followed by the ever popular “Now that we’ve determined it’s only six inches deep, can we make it across alive?” Later, you will discover that you are literally 1.1 (that’s one-point-one) miles from the alternate route, a.k.a. Hwy. 71, which will lead you back to the interstate in a matter of seven to ten seconds.

The next morning, after a restful nine minutes of sleep, we flew back to Colorado, where eight out of ten doctors agreed that I had somehow managed to contract the H1N1 virus, commonly referred to as Swine Flu.

The last five days have been a glorious combination of phlegm, dry heaves, and cold sweats.

In conclusion, I am apparently cursed. Thank you for reading. That is all.