There are those out there who long for life to go back to the way it was. You know, the good old days. When young immigrant kids were in detention centers, when bigots roamed the streets freely unchallenged and the it was okay for people to excuse the behavior of a man molesting a woman by saying, “Boys will be boys.”
As I said, the good old days.
Although I don’t believe things will go back to the way they were — they’ll either be slightly better or much, much worse — I’ll know we’ve regained our footing when I can start making fun of the casino circuit again.
For the uninitiated, my poking fun at the casino concert circuit is an annual ritual not only because it shows me how out of step my tastes in music really are, it also shows how the mighty have fallen from their glory days.
That’s because the casino circuit is essentially an employment program for acts that were once great but haven’t kept up with the times (you know, bands like Styx
and Loverboy).
It’s a step up from the state fair circuit because it’s inside and air-conditioned.
Anyhoo, about this time every year, I gloat or lament the latest C-listers to hit the circuit.
I have taken great glee seeing bands like Air Supply,
Survivor
and Rick Springfield
and bemoaned the appearance of Box Scaggs,
Aaron Neville
and (sniff sniff)
The Little River Band.
But now, there’s nobody to make fun of. Not only do I not hear the radio ads announcing the shows, But I actually have to go to the casino websites themselves to get the news.
For example, the only thing on the Emerald Queen Casino in Auburn’s calendar is that your EQC Card gets you four times the points Monday through Thursday. Catchy tune, but you can’t dance to it. The TULALIP Casino has no featured events and even the Swinomish Casino and Lodge out in Anacortes has 2X Monday and Neighbors Appreciation events only scheduled through at least November, leaving me nothing to write about.
It’s not that I’d go to one of these shows, mind you, unless it featured the supergroup that was created when Men At Work and Men Without Hats combined forces. It’s called Men Without Jobs, now there’s a show I’d pay to see.
So, yes, people will know that things may not be quite the way they were, but at least they’ll have returned to some semblance of normal when they can go out to eat, go to a party, hug friends or go to big summer festivals again.
But not me.
I’ll know they’re back to normal when I can scoff at the latest bands to get their tickets on the ride to Palookaville that is the casino circuit.
And I can’t wait.