If I was raised on anything, I was raised on the band Chicago. The Heart of Chicago 1967-1997 is probably the one album that holds the single most childhood memories for me, (even with all those wonderfully obnoxious mixed-tapes from high school) so when my sister saw that they were making an appearance at a benefit concert alongside Kansas, we decided to make a weekend of it. Attending the concert was actually hilarious because we were probably the youngest ones there by about 20 years. One of the ladies that sat next to us, leaned over and said, "Aren't you guys gonna get bored?" BUT WE DID NOT! As soon as they started playing, we both burst into tears. Which is what happens when you are having the time of your life. ;) Every song was the song from that one time. It was time-machine setlist magic, if there ever was such a thing. And I will tell you that there is because I ugly cried over it. And as if we couldn't fall any harder for the band, we discovered Jimmy Pankow in the flesh that night. 65-years-old, black shirt unbottoned down to his naval, and WORKING that trombone. I mean, I love him.
Then there was french toast at midnight because we try really hard to make a habit of eating breakfast when we shouldn't. And we went home and crossed that business off our bucket list.