MORRISSEY!

[Andrea] So at 12:30 last night (a school night!) Rey called me. "What are you doing May 20?" - a question that could only lead to mischief. Then, "Guess who's in concert in Indianapolis?" It could just mean one thing: MORRISSEY! Rey and I are both devotees of morose longing, macabre lyrics, and melodrama. It rather drives Lisa nuts when Rey and I start singing the lyrics of "Hairdresser on Fire" or "Girlfriend in a Coma" or "First of the Gang to Die." And Scot dismisses our mawkish taste as embarrassingly out of date in an 80s-teen-angst-electronica kind of way. Regardless of the (well deserved?) criticism, the plan is that JD (who has a high tolerance, if not esteem, of the Mayor of Maudlin), Rey and I will be seeing the Master in concert.

"You're not right in the head and nor am I
And this is why
This is why I like you, I like you, I like you."