Hoedowns, Barn-Raisings, & Bar Mitzvahs.

The power of advertising is strong.

Recently, a co-worker asked me to help craft a billboard ad for the local origination channel I produce to announce that his band was accepting bookings for, as he put it, "weddings, reunions, festivals, etc." However, I found this list far too diminutive and limiting to our vast and diverse audience. I asked him why he didn't include other local events on the list. Barbeques, for example. Bar mitzvahs? Hoedowns? For heavens sake, Barn-Raises, at least.

Funny though he found all of this, my co-worker simply refused to allow me to admit Bar Mitzvahs onto the list.

"Co-Worker," I admonished him, "you will certainly isolate the Jewish community of eastern Kentucky if you omit this important event from your list of possible gigs. Surely you see the danger in this?"

Surely, he did not. Bar Mitzvahs were, in fact, omitted. The final list read, "Local Band, Now Accepting Bookings for Reunions, Festivals, Fundraisers (and in small print), Hoedowns, BBQs, Weddings, and Barn Raises."

My glee increased exponentially to the funniness of the aforementioned list. However, as the days passed, my excitement was lessened as not a single effing person called to book the band. Were my days as a booking agent numbered?

Yet, today, a very stoned sounding man called me and said:

"Uh, yeee-aaaah. I saw this band on TV a-wantin' to play fer barn-raisins, er whutever..."

"You want to book the band, sir?"

"Uh, yesss'm, I do."

In the background I hear, "Ask'em about the hoedowns, too!"

Heee Haaaw! Success! Too much fun for words.

Also, on a side note, I would like to add an additional humorous antecdote about my mother.

When I came downstairs yesterday, I found Momma sitting on the couch, reading and eating an ice cream cone. Emboldened, apparently, by the rock'em, sock'em crime book in her hand, she turned to me and said, "If you go to the grocery store this weekend, don't you get me any of those sissy-ass ice cream cones!"

HA! I'd never really heard "sissy-ass" used to describe anything, but coming out of my mother's mouth, it was quite comical.