(Continued from CKR: An Introduction...)
FEBRUARY 2006
FEBRUARY 2006
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Being the undeniable fans we are, my hubby Scott and I saw Kid Rock in concert tonight at the Seminole Hard Rock Casino in Hollywood, Florida—near Fort Lauderdale. Kenny O., Jason, Jimmie, and Stefanie (of the Twisted Brown Trucker band) were with him. We’d seen them play before with Aerosmith in West Palm and with Joe C. in Fort Lauderdale. Traffic sucked, so we walked into the concert hall an hour after the show started. We have no idea who opened. Fortunately, Kid Rock made his entrance just as we located our seats, which were okay, but I would like to have been closer. As expected, the concert kicked ass!
Being the undeniable fans we are, my hubby Scott and I saw Kid Rock in concert tonight at the Seminole Hard Rock Casino in Hollywood, Florida—near Fort Lauderdale. Kenny O., Jason, Jimmie, and Stefanie (of the Twisted Brown Trucker band) were with him. We’d seen them play before with Aerosmith in West Palm and with Joe C. in Fort Lauderdale. Traffic sucked, so we walked into the concert hall an hour after the show started. We have no idea who opened. Fortunately, Kid Rock made his entrance just as we located our seats, which were okay, but I would like to have been closer. As expected, the concert kicked ass!
Friday, February 17, 2006
Scott’s birthday is January 17—honest—and my gift to him this year was a travel package for the two of us to see the Daytona 500, because he’s always wanted to go. I booked the trip in October, before we knew Kid Rock was coming to town. (The day I bought the concert tickets, Scott didn’t know I’d planned a weekend away, but the timing was perfect.) Anyway, the morning after the concert, we packed up for our four-day weekend and drove to our Orlando hotel. On the highway, we passed a black and smoke-gray bus with the same Made In Detroit logo we’d seen at the concert last night. We suspected it was Kid Rock’s tour bus, so we jokingly cranked the music up and gave a brief wave (with the windows UP because we’re not teenagers). I think we were listening to Early Mornin’ Stoned Pimp at the time, but it could have been anything. We checked into our hotel—where I was amused at the Mickey Mouse bedspreads—had dinner, then occupied ourselves at Pleasure Island until one or two o’clock in the morning. Some out-of-town friends called while we were there to invite us to meet them the following night for drinks.
Scott’s birthday is January 17—honest—and my gift to him this year was a travel package for the two of us to see the Daytona 500, because he’s always wanted to go. I booked the trip in October, before we knew Kid Rock was coming to town. (The day I bought the concert tickets, Scott didn’t know I’d planned a weekend away, but the timing was perfect.) Anyway, the morning after the concert, we packed up for our four-day weekend and drove to our Orlando hotel. On the highway, we passed a black and smoke-gray bus with the same Made In Detroit logo we’d seen at the concert last night. We suspected it was Kid Rock’s tour bus, so we jokingly cranked the music up and gave a brief wave (with the windows UP because we’re not teenagers). I think we were listening to Early Mornin’ Stoned Pimp at the time, but it could have been anything. We checked into our hotel—where I was amused at the Mickey Mouse bedspreads—had dinner, then occupied ourselves at Pleasure Island until one or two o’clock in the morning. Some out-of-town friends called while we were there to invite us to meet them the following night for drinks.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
We spent the day at Epcot—in eighty-degree weather—still amused at passing Kid Rock’s tour bus the day after his concert. (I realize the guy’s gotta get to the next show, but what are the odds?) When our friends called to ask if we still wanted to meet up for drinks, we told them we’d decided not to go because we were tired and the Daytona shuttle leaves at six in the morning. Knowing what big fans we are, they tempted us by saying, “your boy Kid Rock’s playing there tonight.” We still declined, but now we’re getting a little freaked by the coincidences.
We spent the day at Epcot—in eighty-degree weather—still amused at passing Kid Rock’s tour bus the day after his concert. (I realize the guy’s gotta get to the next show, but what are the odds?) When our friends called to ask if we still wanted to meet up for drinks, we told them we’d decided not to go because we were tired and the Daytona shuttle leaves at six in the morning. Knowing what big fans we are, they tempted us by saying, “your boy Kid Rock’s playing there tonight.” We still declined, but now we’re getting a little freaked by the coincidences.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Neither of us follow NASCAR, but our first Daytona 500 was really cool. Both figuratively and literally. In the gift shop—where we bought sweatshirts to replace the ones we left at the hotel because it was hot yesterday—I noticed a paperback book display near the register. It was a work of fiction, but had something to do with NASCAR racing, so I made a mental note to think of venue ideas for marketing Immortal Bonds, my first novel, in a similar fashion (i.e., approaching venues mentioned in the book to help sell it). We wandered the grounds, marveled at the garages, the pits, and the fans. I normally take notes everywhere I go (yes, it’s nerdy, but you never know), but I assumed I’d never be back again, so I just tried to take it all in. Then we spotted a few roadies near the hot dog stand (it’s a dead giveaway when you look like a biker and your leather jacket has KID ROCK embroidered on the back). Later, after we’d returned to our seats in the stands, the track announcer mentioned that racer Tony Stewart was hanging out before the race with his buddy Kid Rock. This truly is bizarre.
Neither of us follow NASCAR, but our first Daytona 500 was really cool. Both figuratively and literally. In the gift shop—where we bought sweatshirts to replace the ones we left at the hotel because it was hot yesterday—I noticed a paperback book display near the register. It was a work of fiction, but had something to do with NASCAR racing, so I made a mental note to think of venue ideas for marketing Immortal Bonds, my first novel, in a similar fashion (i.e., approaching venues mentioned in the book to help sell it). We wandered the grounds, marveled at the garages, the pits, and the fans. I normally take notes everywhere I go (yes, it’s nerdy, but you never know), but I assumed I’d never be back again, so I just tried to take it all in. Then we spotted a few roadies near the hot dog stand (it’s a dead giveaway when you look like a biker and your leather jacket has KID ROCK embroidered on the back). Later, after we’d returned to our seats in the stands, the track announcer mentioned that racer Tony Stewart was hanging out before the race with his buddy Kid Rock. This truly is bizarre.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Scott and I talked about the trip for the entire three-hour-drive home. Never turned the stereo on. We’ve been chasing Kid Rock for four days, in four different cities, and—although it was coincidental and not intentional—I can’t help but feel like a groupie. But, I’m a firm believer in the saying, “Everything happens for a reason,” and we both agree there’s a book here somewhere. Unfortunately, I’m already working on the prequel for Immortal Bonds (I’ve got the outline and the first drafts of the Prologue and Chapter 1), so I don’t want to start another project...
(to be continued...)
Scott and I talked about the trip for the entire three-hour-drive home. Never turned the stereo on. We’ve been chasing Kid Rock for four days, in four different cities, and—although it was coincidental and not intentional—I can’t help but feel like a groupie. But, I’m a firm believer in the saying, “Everything happens for a reason,” and we both agree there’s a book here somewhere. Unfortunately, I’m already working on the prequel for Immortal Bonds (I’ve got the outline and the first drafts of the Prologue and Chapter 1), so I don’t want to start another project...
(to be continued...)
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