I've been meaning to start blogging again and fully expected that tonight's Styx show would provide plenty of fodder -- what with the anticipated vintage stage backdrop, wardrobe and fandom resurrected from the 80s. The experience of working a show like this is often somewhat akin to finding a rupture in the space-time continuum and falling back 25 years or so in time. Tonight didn't disappoint in that respect, but I can't talk smack about Styx because James Young tipped me $20 for a bottle of water, effectively earning himself a free pass on this one. Rock on JY. Rock on.
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