JoBros

All of Nashville seemed to be in one place last night:

That's right, at the The Jonas Brothers concert. "the The"? Sure. Why not?

In keeping up with all things Nashville as it is my job (but not really), I checked my Twilight twitter feed throughout the day. The fine folks over at Nashvillest have a much more relavent blog than I do and the accompanying corporate tie-ins which I am so desperately seeking to make me rich beyond my wildest dreams. Or, at the very least, afford me an extra burrito every once in a while. Anyway, the Nashvillest twitter feed thingy was consistently updated with pictures upon pictures upon pictures and updates upon updates upon updates about Team Dreamboat The JoBros. Who knew that these three dudes were as popular as they are, inciting tweens (some as old as 12, even) to lose their mind in mass hysteria? Not I.

That doesn't mean that I'm completely ignorant of popular culture but I'm not much for the Disney tween scene. In the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that I do enjoy Miley Cyrus' latest single "Party in the USA". What's not to love about it?
- "Party"? Check
- "USA"? Check
- "in the"? Check
I still kinda hope that she falls of that mountain she's trying to climb from her previous single [Writer's note: "v" and "c" are right next to each other on the keyboard. Don't make a mistake.]. Maybe her next song could be called "The Descent"... Maybe she can work in a reference to the film of the same name:

I was descendin' down that hill / I didn't know the path /
I came across the creatures / And all their bloody wrath

A little bit macabre for someone whose Christian name is Hope Destiny Cyrus? Poppycock! It would just be a sign of her maturity. Hell, I'd buy the record if she started singing about zombies. I wonder if I can get some points from Hollywood Records for that? Hmm...

What was I talking about? Oh, yeah... The Jonas Brothers and the stupid traffic. Nashville traffic is bad enough. Nashville drivers, doubly so. So you can imagine the downtown area chock-a-block full of minivans [Writer's note #2: This is defensible because I drive a sport utility wagon.] full of the aforementioned tweens and at least one rather unfortunate chaperone... and the aforementioned maelstrom of forrest green Honda Odyssey that ensued. Speaking of which, I'm sure that Odysseus would be rolling over in his grave if he knew that his name had been lent to a car manufacturer whose sole purpose was to transport seventh graders to see some dudes whose hair will never fall out sing power ballads.

All of this traffic frustrated me. Traffic usually does. Not so much in the morning or evening on the way to or from work, respectively because that's part of the day; that's budgeted into my schedule. However, when all I want to do is get home and watch Payback and fall asleep, I get frustrated when throngs of glowstick wearing young girls get in my way.

It's not that I hate the girls. I don't. I think there's some poison magic in the glowsticks that turns girls from moderately coherent and occasionally semi-logical to totally incoherent and acting like spending $83 on a bottle of wine on a first date is a totally legit thing to do. It's not, by the way.

Maybe I'm just jealous of The JoBros. I don't have throngs of people screaming and clamoring for my attention: especially of the female persuasion. Also, I don't have an awesome stylist who can make me look like I'm not developing a bald spot and who would encourage me not to wear the same two pair of pants over and over again for weeks on end sans washing. And maybe I don't have sweet guitar playing chops (even though I kinda do). And maybe I can't wear a vest and not look like a penguin. And maybe I don't have the force of Disney behind me.

But I've got a cheeseburger tattoo on my arm and I once sat down and watched all 45 episodes of Sports Night in a row. If those don't do it, I don't know what will.