Tim McGraw…if every man looked that good in a pair of jeans, socializing scene would be easier on the eyes. (Faith is one lucky lady.) The trek to PNC made me grateful to live close to the city and reminiscent for adventure—the subway to the train to the shuttle (which looked like a white prison bus out of a 1950s movie). I didn’t realize how much industrial zones there are in New Jersey…odd that like in Sicily they are close in proximity to the shoreline.
I wish I had the sense to beef up on Tim’s tunes before the concert—not that country music isn’t a quick learn once you’ve heard the lyrics. Kristin and Emily were partying it up as Anne and I soaked up the concert and concert goers in $5 lawn chairs.
We serendipitously shared a cab (Bayside Metro – Aberdeen/Matawan) with a couple of girls from Bay Ridge ($120 + tolls) rather than wait an hour for the train and another for the subway. Anne was a good sport, being the last one to get home via subway from our ‘hood. Keith the cabdriver was an interesting soul: ex-cop, ex-volunteer fire chief, from Jackson, NJ who’s never once set foot on a train or subway and has never the tri-state area.