No one wanted to go. Keith/Sharie thought his CD, Bronx in Blue, sucked; Joe/Nancy were skeptical, politely declined; the Reet offered to accompany me, but only to hammer the quarter poker machines. Dion, they don't get you. They don't get that you aren't just a washed up oldies joke trying to make middle-aged folks think they are teenagers again, but rather an ever-evolving singer/songwriter/guitarist who has something to say. And say it very well! I guess some others do get you, because it appears you've sold out the four-night stand. Whatever.
We drop off G-Man in New Haven for his return to Brooklyn and head out I-95/I395 to Mohegan Sun for Dion's 7:30pm Saturday night show at the Cabaret Lounge (or whatever it's called). No ticket, for my procrastination has bitten me in the ass, but I'm guessing I can get one at the box office.
I get off the wrong exit to Mohegan. Shit. No worry, following the signs, we eventually approach the connector. Okay, just through this intersection and up the ramp and we'll be there. Parking is going to be a bitch, but we'll deal with it. Dion, here we, I mean I, come.
Yikes! WTF, this guy's turning across my lane! SMASH! CRACKLE! POP!
Only going about 25 (with seatbelts), so The Reet and I manage to exit our car intact, as does a twenty-something kid from his, apologizing. A CT state cop appears out of nowhere (actually, he viewed the goings on waiting for the light) and takes charge, directs us to drive off to the side and calls local police. It's almost 7 o'clock, we aren't going anywhere soon. Everyone seems fine, the cars are pretty banged up, but driveable. The kid apologizes several more times as he pulls off his entire front bumper. Unfortunately, the paperwork takes forever (query: why don't they have laptops and printers in the cars for reports?). We each get an almost unreadable carbon copy. It's a wrap. Aloha.
Dion, this was just not meant to be!
A snippet of the legendary Dion DiMucci performing "Drip Drop" at the Count Basie Theatre in Red Bank NJ. July 18, 2006:
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