Good morning, chickens.
Despite it being another day off over here, I was up at 7:15, listening to the rain hit my apartment and willing it to stop in time to dry up before our Ravinia concert tonight.
Ahh, yes, I’m headed back to Ravinia tonight.
In my defense, I did take a couple of weeks off.
This weekend of performances, however, is my mostly highly anticipated, since both tonight and tomorrow, I am slated to lay eyes on James Taylor, who most of you know is basically my biggest celebrity crush of all time.
I don’t care who knows it.
My grandma, mom, aunts, cousins and I all love him.
He’s got a cross-generational appeal.
If you don’t think so, I implore you to keep your opinions to yourself.
You won’t change our minds anyway.
Tonight’s crowd is slightly smaller than tomorrow’s, so we’re going to spend the morning frying up chicken to bring to Saturday’s larger party.
When I explained the difference in attendance for both nights, my brother looked at me and said, “So Friday’s just the dress rehearsal, then?”
I guess that’s one way of looking at it.
In any case, last night, at 10:00 pm, after several hours of cocktails and conversation, we set to applying a spice rub to four giant, cut-up chickens.
My grandma cut them up like a champ. I’ve never seen such beautifully butchered chickens.
Anyway, my sister, brother and I whipped up a spice rub of salt, pepper, cayenne, paprika, onion & garlic powder, and then put MJ in charge of coating chicken pieces in it.
I’m probably going to smell like peanut oil for several days.
And I couldn’t be happier about it.
Now I’m off to make some breakfast, hit the gym, and get out to the suburbs, but I leave you with one of my favorite James songs for your listening pleasure.
Enjoy this day, chickadees.