I grabbed the
Time Out New York from my mailbox to read on the train on my way to work this morning. After picking up a coffee and finally making it past some
really slow walkers to the M train, I sat down and started thumbing through the magazine.
On page 150, a bolt of lightning hit me when I found what I thought might be a most amazing birthday gift for Will's upcoming age-increase: tickets to see the ultimate emote-a-band, Journey.
My heart raced as I tried to remind myself to go buy tickets online the second I got to work. When I finally sat down I told my friend Jose what was making me so giddy. I got the sense he saw the genius in my plan.
But, yes, the excitement I've built up here is all about to burst.
When I went to the calendar page on the website for Canal Room, the venue that was to host my most perfect gift, all hopes were instantly dashed. To my horror, this is what I found:

This is not what it said in the print ad, and I have never been sadder to see those two sorry words: Tribute. Band. I don't care how great they are, there is only one
Steve Perry.
Sorry, Will. But.
Don't Stop Believin'. I
Faithfully promise, with
Open Arms, that we'll figure out a great birthday for you,
Any Way You Want It. (sorry, folks. I don't normally get all punny, but when it comes to something as rockin' as Journey, this
Girl Can't Help It!)