The best laid plans of mice and men...I quit the island in typical Tumbleweed fashion, absconding with the rent money and quite possibly blowing off a couple of friendships in the process.

But in the long run it wasn't worth it because I spent the whole swack getting drunk with Skippy, my evil twin brother, who promptly blew the roll on off-track betting at the bar, not on the favourites, or on well-paying odds, but in his drunken frenzy on cutesy names like Blonde Bombshell and Native Dancer,. It's not easy being me but life is never boring.

I was homeless and broke. Fortunately, my ex-girlfriend Marilyn took me in so I wouldn't have to sleep in the park. She had spice rack plans. We had originally broken up because I couldn't abide by the fact she didn't like Van Morrison's music. That idea was inconceivable to me. Broke, hungry, and homeless, she had me where she wanted me. I became a kept man. And it was obvious that she wouldn't lend me the money to see the concert. I found another reason to quit the island. I had no choice but to resort to Plan X.

I asked my sister to wire me a thousand dollars as quickly as possible. Nobody in the whole world would ever or will ever understand my need and desire to see another Van Morrison concert, and that I would do anything to do so. I spent the entire day in the Western Union office waiting for the money order to arrive. It never happened.

By the time the office closed the concert was less than 24 hours away.

The next day I phoned up my landscaping buddy and asked him for a loan. He said, "No, but I got some work for you today, fifty bucks for half a days work." I'd do anything to see the concert...including work for it. What a concept! But first I phoned the Western Union office to see if my money order arrived. Nope.

I spent the entire day pulling weeds and mowing lawns, bored anxious and horny.

I finished the job by three o'clock and collected my fifty dollars. Time was becoming a serious factor now. I would have to catch the bus downtown, change my clothes at Marilyn's, say good-bye, catch another bus to board the ferry, the ferry ride itself was another hour and a half, then another long bus ride into town...and even then if I made it on time...I would have less than thirty bucks for which to negotiate a ticket with! It wasn't looking good.

But the important thing, I kept telling myself, was to take each moment by itself. Maybe the money will come through at the last minute. I sweated throughout the whole bus ride, and then later on the ferry when I was smoking my cigar I felt like a condemned man waiting for the governor's last second reprieve phone call just like in the movies...

To speed things up a bit I took the express bus from the ferry terminal and rode quickly into town and arrived at the bus depot with the concert less than 45 minutes away, and with thirty bucks on my pocket. The money hadn't arrived yet.

I decided one last chance ditch effort...I jogged to the casino on Main and Pender and plunged the whole wad on a three-to-one spot at the first roulette table. I won. I hesitated for a second because I knew this wouldn't have been enough money for a scalper's ticket. I thought the only chance I had left to see the concert was to hope that somebody, somewhere had an extra ticket and was willing to take a short loss on it just to dump it. I mean this happens right? From time to time? I jogged to GM Place.

Where is Honey Tupelo? In my mad frenzy, I forgot all about her. I knew of a bar right next door to the CBC building, kitty corner to the concert site, I thought I should check there for her, maybe she was sipping a whiskey sour...

The bar was called The Shark Club. It was just barely on this side of Hooters. All the waitresses were sexy hard-bodies and busting out all over the place. What a country! The place was a smoke filled madhouse. Over the loud murmur of voices, you could barely hear the music of Van.

Instead of wasting time looking for her I thought it wiser to be conspicuous. I found a stool by the bar and lit up another Black Panther Cigar and ordered a scotch. The guy next to me had big googly eyes like Rodney Dangerfield, sounded like him too. He wanted to talk about the hockey game. I blew cigar smoke in his face ignored him. I scanned the crowd for Honey Tupelo.

I saw her from across the room. She was by herself sitting on a stool with her long legs crossed. And she was drinking a whiskey sour. My drink hadn't arrived. I motioned for her to wait a moment but she grabbed her drink and joined me.

"I didn't think you would ever show up" Honey said.

"I had no idea where we were supposed to be meeting..."

"You didn't get my e-mail? Well, who cares, you're here. Shall we get going? The concert starts in fifteen minutes."

"I don't even have a ticket" I whined.

"See, if you checked your e-mail you'd know that I already got you a ticket. C'mon let's go. I don't want to miss a second of the show"