Is it Wednesday, already?

This summer seems to fly by like I'm on some kind of vacation, or something.

I guess when one (and that would be ME) is looking forward to something, say, as in a CONCERT of the DAVE MATTHEWS variety, that time seems to keep hurtling towards it. Not that I'm counting the days, or anything.

I can pinpoint exactly when my obsession with Dave began. Summer of 93. I was a 17 year old intern at FDIC in the offic of equal opportunity. The first OEO in my life. While I was working there, I met a young girl, Janet, whom I adored. She was so different than the girls I went to college with. A lot of the girls that I observed spent more time trying to be appealing to men. Janet, although beautiful, found it more important to be smart. I think it was the first time I saw that so clearly. It might have had to do with the fact that she was a junior in college, and a little bit more settled in. Not quite the same as the young freshman boy crazy girls that I had been running with who wouldn't walk to the Danna Center without their faces spackled with make-up because boys ate there. Not the same at all.

And fast forwarding past the after school special messagey-ness...

I went with Janet to UVA one weekend, to meet her friends and eat pot brownies. Not really. But we did, I think. Janet asked me whether I wanted to go see a small band or go to a frat party. Being the frat brat that I was, I said, "What's the name of the band?" You know, because you can TOTALLY tell whether they're going to suck or not from their name (insert Homer Simpson I am SO SMART! moment here).

"Dave Matthews."

"Dave Matthews? (eyeroll) Who the hell names their band Dave Matthews?"

"They're all right, Alex. You might like them."

"Who's in it?"

"This bartender that works at the bar where we ate lunch. Him and a group of his buddies. They're really nice."

"Are they cute?"

"Well, they're not the fraternity boys that you seem to like, but there's a frat party going on tonight, too."

And that was the end of that. We never saw the band that Janet and her friends had been following, faithfully. They were small enough that she knew them by name. Imagine my delight! and surprise! when I heard their album come out not a year later. Or finally got the nerve to listen to it. And was so taken by it that I listened to nothing else except that tape (YES! A TAPE!) ALL SUMMER. What's the moral of this story?

File that under TCWH: 0, LIFE, REGRETS: 1

I like to ride rollercoasters. Do you?