Sunday evening. Pedaling my Schwinn Continental through downtown Columbia, I noticed something unusual, so I stopped to watch. Hundreds of tuxedos and gowns bedecking a bizarre bunch of freakers, wild daglo hairdos and stunning face jewelry. Twentysomethings and thirtysomethings, most appearing kinda stiff in formal wear, but every one had a game face. “Wedding?” I asked one tux. “Nope, the Mid Missouri Rock Awards.” Black-tie glitterati lined up on the red carpet leading into the Blue Note. If I’d worn my bike tux I woulda joined ’em.
Instead, I yelled “Rock on!” and rolled home.
Share this Post