![]() ![]() It has been nearly two years now of cancellations, postponements, disruptions, and disappointments. My mere presence at the show seemed magical, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one there who felt that way. Waiting in line in the cold felt like a blessing. But after a call to a towing company and a short walk along the side of the interstate, we were picked up by another friend and arrived at the Ritz with a half-hour to spare. Then the car hit a deep pothole and we fishtailed to a stop on the shoulder. on the evening of the show, driving to Raleigh. Somehow I found myself in the back of a car at 6 p.m. ![]() One misstep, and I would pass the night of the concert in isolation, listening to Courtney Barnett through earbuds instead of a PA system. Late January provided an abundance of snow-and also coronavirus exposures. But as the date loomed, so too did the specter of the omicron variant. I had bought a ticket to the concert months earlier I had secured a ride my Courtney Barnett shirt was washed, folded, and ready to be worn. Even before the rear passenger-side tire of my friend’s car blew out in the middle lane of I-40, I had convinced myself that I would not, in fact, be seeing Courtney Barnett at the Ritz on Jan.
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