Out of all the shows I saw this one sticks with me on many levels. I drove up by myself from my small town in Northern Illinois. I asked my parents if I could borrow their car for the night. I was told yes as long as I didn’t leave town with it. I proceeded to drive 2 states away. I had an ex that lived in Minnesota and went to St Olaf. I went and met up with her and her new boyfriend. Some hardcore punk kid. It was awkward all around. He had a real disdain for our joint musical interest and did not join us for the show. I remember scoring 2 hits from some freaky lady in the parking garage before the show. The theater itself was lovely. So intimate. Every seat in the place was a good spot to watch and listen but being a theater with seats it made it more difficult to dance. Not impossible but more difficult. Since I dropped while walking in I have a pretty good memory of the first set. It was well put together and I was super into Possum at the time. I just loved the guitar solos in all the bootlegs I had and wanted to see another one. I didn’t fully appreciate the one I saw at my first show since it was all new to me. Of course I was peaking by the time Bowie came around and it wasn’t a particularly clean hit. I got quite uncomfortable and the opposite of the blissed our feelings I had had at other shows. I remember being excited that they played Rocky Top as an encore as it was the first song I learned to play on guitar as a kid and the familiarity brought me back to earth. I walked out of the show thinking it was over too quick. It felt like the shortest concert I had seen by them. At the time I didn’t realize I had seen such a long Bowie. I only remember being stuck inside my head for most of the second set. That’s about all I have left in the ol noggin about the show. I ended up staying over at the ex’s pad and when I woke the next day there was a horrible snow storm going down. I headed out of the twin cities and ten minutes later the Jetta went off the road and into a ditch. Lucky a pickup pulled over and pulled me out. When I made it back to Illinois There was not a snowflake to be seen. The car however was covered in snow. I pulled over two blocks from the parents house and cleaned the snow off the car. I told my parents about that night years later when I was about 40. I thought it was a funny antidote. They were less than happy to hear about it and told me to keep any other misadventures I may have had in my youth to myself. Figured I would share here.