No Such Thing As The Real World

If I really had my schmooze on, I'd be down at the Folk Alliance conference kick-off party right now, listening to Susan and Jimmy getting the folkie festivities started, but since I'm already stretching my agently capacities to the limit and can't justify even glancing in the direction of another client, I've decided to skip it. Oh, and also, I don't have an extra $430 for the conference registration fees. I may sneak off one night with The Admiral's one-day pass, hopefully catching a span where as many of my kids are playing as possible. I know Blair's got at least three shows, one of which is the big fancy showcase slot he won last year. I feel like I should at least show my face, just to protect my turf.

In other musical news, John Mayer is staying at my house tomorrow night. He's heading through on his way to Birmingham, Opelika, Atlanta and Savannah, then swinging back for a big show at the P&H in Memphis. What? Why are you looking at me like that? It's true. He may have been forced to perform as John Elliott due to the increasing visibility of a certain floppy-haired Grammy winner, but the birth certificate says John Mayer. As does the diploma from the high school we went to together. (Where he did not, in fact, run through the halls nor bust down the double doors.)