So Snoop Dog was at The National last night and I didn’t care since I’m not going to pretend that I’m someone who is so faux cool as to pretend to care about a famous act that I know nothing about. I think he has a sense of humor, so I appreciate that, but I am ignorant of his work–except that which is part of the soundtrack of the world and I don’t even know I’ve listened to it. That still sounds pretty ignorant.

But I digress. Turns out a friend of my son, former classmate, bandmate and all-around good guy was playing Snoop Dog’s after-party. Took me a while to realize he was playing the after-party in C-ville where Snoop Dog was playing at The Jefferson Monday night, across the Downtown Mall from The Paramount where I was seeing Lucinda Williams the same night. Pretty good night in Charlottesville. (Wouldn’t it be cool if a section of E. Grace Street (or perhaps a side street) in Richmond could be closed to traffic and let restaurants and shops bloom again there? Jason Alley’s Pasture (coming late summer) could be the beginning with The Carpenter Theatre and The National providing the good time destinations. A thought.)  The Downtown Mall was hopping Monday night with people dining al fresco before the concerts. A nice vibe. 

But back to the talented guy I’m a fan of–Brett. That boy has jammed in my basement! He started his career with my son, the drummer, in the perfectly-named middle school band of boys: Throb. Old school, indeed. They switched to a name that isn’t as memorable for a bit and then they hit their stride and jazzed it up in high school with Creepy Todd. Ah, the good ole days. Then they moved on to college and different bands. But if you had told me years ago when the guys were jamming out in my son’s room that one day guitar-playing Brett would make my degree of separation from Snoop Dog a 1 , I wouldn’t have blinked an eye. And for the record, once Lucinda’s quite fantastic show let out, I did not text Brett asking for an in to Snoop Dog’s party.

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