WHEN DAVE AND I WENT TO KANSAS CITY

Steve to Dave

Remember how when we got to Sprint Center, just before we got in line for the show, and I discovered the Black Sabbath tickets weren't in my pocket? That the possibility existed I had left them at the hotel, or lost them at the Wendy's where we stopped to eat? And we had to go back to the car, hoping against all hope they were in the car?
That's as close to breaking into a full run as I've been in years.



Dave to Steve

You're such a mess, Steve Renfro! I said  that you understand me better than anyone else, but as a person who goes through a mental checklist before even getting up from a toilet, I admit that I still don't quite understand you. While I worry every second of every minute of every day, asleep or awake, it's as if you never worry at all. That is until you realize the Sabbath tickets aren't in your pocket, then all the worrying you should have been doing for the last several days kicks in in one giant cardiac event. I'm sure I was laughing when you broke into a dead run in that parking garage, your giant head engorged with bright red blood like a bloated tick. Comical terror!