So tomorrow night Joan Jett is playing with the Eagles of Death Metal and some other band. 3 bands! Boston has a smoking ban, and the show starts at 6:30, so I wouldn't have to worry about getting home at 1:30 in the morning with stinging eyes and smoke-ruined clothing. So why can't I go? I mean, hey, the wife likes Joan Jett too--we could make an evening of it!
But, I mean, the hurdles are just a little too high. Find a babysitter, pay a babysitter, deal with kids being beastly for at least a full day afterwards because they wouldn't go to sleep with a babysitter and so are sleep-deprived demons from hell...I mean, we could do it. But it's a high price to pay.
Of course, it is an all-ages show, so I suppose the other option is taking them along. The boy likes the Eagles of Death Metal, and Joan Jett is a fine role model for the girls (Well, except for the dropping out of high school to join a pre-fab band put together by a creepy svengali part). But, all ages or not, I can't really see taking an 8, 9, and 10 year old to a club show.
Yeah, I know, we took them to watch the fruits of horrific animal abuse last week (see below), but somehow taking them out to get their little asses kicked with some fine fine rock and roll doesn't seem like a wholesome family activity. Dammit!
