An Evening with Rod & Rye

Occasionally I have one of those moments that’s so absolutely perfect it gives me hope for all sorts of things—I can’t specify what exactly: ephemeral notions of spiritual transcendence and kingdoms-coming and etc., but mostly they’re generalizable to the well-being of humanity’s future. Since that’s what occurred tonight I can’t help but share it. However, in lieu of words, because they’re really too blunt a hook to properly capture how I’m feeling, below are two pictures that should say it all.

[And before one of you jabbery philistines starts digging—yes, that is Rod Stewart, a man who, like Elton John or Mick Jagger or any number of now very-old rockers whose careers have gone in highly questionable directions, is but a shell of the man who pumped out some really amazing records in the late 60’s/early 70’s; if you are the type who was thinking of hating on the whiskey, well, you’re a dum-dum and I feel nothing but pity for you.]

 

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