Wednesday, April 25, 2012

To My Dearest Eddie Vedder

To My Dearest Eddie Vedder,

I am just not sure how you could set up a concert in Atlanta without consulting me first.  Wait, that's rude.  Just, why didn't you call??  I would have told you I have a baby due on September 19th and that I am simply not able to make it.  I am sure you would have obliged and set up an even better date.

Here is how my brain works (and apparently my husband's...).  The Hubs hears Pearl Jam is coming September 21st (with Foo Fighters?!  ...sigh.)  He immediately calls because I guess he loves to hear information before me.  He drones on and on, rubs it in, about how the radio stations are blowing up about it.  How huge it's going to be.  How amazing.  ...And backstage passes are available???  Although I would probably just stare at you and stutter...  Anyway, my brain immediately starts rolling...  could I induce?  my babies always come a week late, why wouldn't this one??  could I pop a baby out and run??  wait!, there was that time I went to Music Midtown on crutches!... would this be so different???  But these thoughts were the weird split-second kind... quick and... well, dumb.  This may be God's sick sense of humor at work again... after all, the family's savings IS in jeopardy when meeting you could be involved.  (For $1000... what the what??)

So I make coffee this morning and throw in the Ten album in a ritualistic sort of manner.  Those were the days.  Forceful-grown-up-hood is okay, right?  Teaches responsibility?  I'll make a casserole for a sick friend today.  Get my son's occupational therapy done.  Make sure the house sparkles.  But I'll have you know...  it all sounds homely, but not only am I rockin this shit, I am OWNING this shit.  Is there not a way to mix this housewife self with my easy breezy former self?

So, in my daydreams, very much like a cheesy afternoon Lifetime flick... my friends contact you and tell you what a fan I am.  You, being the lovely person you are visit me in the hospital.  You spout some amazing words of wisdom, "Hey, keep on rocking in the free world..." And I name my fifth kid Vedder.  It's a lovely story, right?


At most admiring, a most pregnant, a most conflicted personality... fan.

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