Last night, against my proper judgement (regarding my summer cold), I went with Mark and Meredith to Tacomania followed by the Journey/Night Ranger concert. I'm pretty sure that I saw the entire city of Shreveport either at Tacomania or at the concert and of course, I was sick and talking with a snot filled nose and trying not to breathe too heavily on anyone.
We got to the concert a little late and jumped in the middle of Night Ranger, who, seriously, were awful, with the one exception of, of course, 'Sister Christian':
Going to the CenturyTel Center for a concert is pretty much asking the City of Bossier to put on their trashiest outfit and come out to play. I have seen a lot over the years of concerts at the CTC, but this one is a definite flashback to a slutty girl that I went to high school, with who spent a lot of her time at Interport (if you grew up in the 71118, you know about Interport) AND youth group:
So, after the intermission and Journey came out, I was pretty sure that I would know all the songs.
Wrong. I seemed to know only about 5-6 of them... which was okay, but when you are praying for the set to be over so you can go home and Neti -Pot, it just seemed to go on and on and on...until they got to 'Open Arms' and everyone got out their lighters/cell phones. Meredith cleverly, managed to combine the two:
By the way. Meredith is my new friend. She is fabulous and I absolutely love her because I feel as though we are on the same page in our opinions as far as trashiness, tackiness, and Bossier. Mark, don't be jealous. So, here is our group pic from the concert:
The guy on the end is Jim. He is one of Meredith's friends who curiously purchased concert merchandise for a female who is NOT his girlfriend. I intend for you to get to the bottom of this, Meredith.
So, on the way back to Mark's to watch Big Brother, we passed by this little sight on Kings Highway:
(If you can't tell, it is a large truck transporting a couch with two humans enjoying the ride.) At least the couch was strapped in, I guess. Stay classy Shreveport... we don't want you to stoop to the lows of Bossier, or God forbid, Keithville.