April 17th, 2009 | Other Projects
I’m visiting my mom in PA, and this afternoon after going to the post office, getting groceries, and procuring a patio set at Target, we swung by a heavy metal concert. My brother John was playing keyboards for a group called Pulled Under up at Penn State. See him back there? Behind the guitarist? That’s my mom in the foreground, the only person at the event with gray hair. Well, besides me. She totally loves this music, and wanted to stand right in front of the speakers. We almost got knocked over by some moshers.
Here’s mom with the band backstage. That’s my bro right behind her. (Not the guy with the awesome facial piercings, the other one.)
Someone on the last post asked why I didn’t just fly from VT to PA to see my mom. It’s not that I’m afraid of flying. It’s not that it’s prohibitively expensive. I was trying to figure out a way to explain how I feel about flying, but then I found this cartoon by John O’Brien in the latest New Yorker which pretty much sums it up.
You go through the doors of the correctional facility, down a jetway, and onto a plane. Why go to prison when you can drive?