More Harley Fest shenanigans today, once again to see BRMC. The day's timing was befouled and I ended up running late, driven by my niece into Milwaukee. The traffic started clogging badly as we got closer to the lakefront, motorcycles everywhere. One of my "things" is that I HATE being late for anything. HATE IT. Especially movies and rock shows. The car clock was ticking away, 15 minutes to showtime, and we are dead stopped. To add to the fun, the car was nearly out of gas and kept telling us so. EEEEEEEEEEEEE.

Tick tick tick, finally get within a few hundred feet of where she was going to drop me off. Big sign: "NO PEDESTRIAN DROP OFF." CRAP! The cops were out in full force too, waving people to keep moving towards to parking lots. We devise a plan; there is no time for parking, and the car must find petrol or the day gets substantially worse for my niece. Once we pass the cops, we pull ahead, get a tiny bit of distance between us and the car behind and my niece says, "GO GO GO!" I jump out of the still-moving car, slam the door behind me without a look back, and start running to the entry gate. I jog past a security worker, and he goes "LOOKING GOOD, SWEETHEART!" and I wave, not stopping to determine if he was serious or sarcastic. I do not care. I HAVE ROCK TO SEE!

It's hot, I have to pee, and I have really no idea where I am going, but I find the main gate, show my elaborate ticket, zip into the women's bathroom, zip out, run run run. The stages seem to be in a row. First one, no. Second one, yes, yes I think that is it. I round the corner, see a bunch of biker folks sitting on flat silver bleachers, look up, and there is Peter Hayes of the band soundchecking. Two minutes to showtime, I walk to an empty spot in the front row, and smile. I made it. The girl next to me smiles and asks if I was at the show the night before, and the extremely-skinny and rocked out teen on my other side wonders if I will be able to see OK. I was, and I can. The show begins, and I am grateful and happy to see them again, even though it was just a few hours ago from the last show.

The bikers seem appreciative of the music, I get lots of good photos, and smile to myself, because I will see them again in Seattle in a few days. I really love music. I drank two bottles of water, tossed a terrible iced latte, ate a decent brat, and called it a day. Go me.