So I come home for lunch yesterday and James - who was working Downtown yesterday - was already sitting in the living room, visiting with Sonya. During the course of our lunchtime conversation it comes up that Cyndi Lauper was playing at Bluesville in the Horseshoe Casino.

Of course we had to go.

But I tell you, Sonya and I battled back from adversity in a thrilling story of the triumph of the human spirit. Sonya was working on a migraine at lunch, so she took enough Advil to ruin her liver. I slept in a massively wrong position Wednesday night and found myself creeping out of bed yesterday morning with a horrid, shooting pain coming from my neck and radiating down my back and along my left arm. The dreaded Crick has returned. As quick as I could gimp into the kitchen I took the last of my really good painkillers and spent the majority of yesterday in a non-narcotic haze. A double dose of espresso, administered orally, was the only thing that kept me awake through the afternoon.

So about six-thirty we start headin' down highway...sixty-one, to quote Bob Dylan. Sonya was driving, so naturally there was a terrific push-the-car-off-the-road rainstorm, which cleared away as soon as we pulled in to the Casino Center parking lot.

We got in line at the Bluesville box office, and immediately the fabulous couple in front of us decided they had one ticket too many and gave their extra to Sonya. We hadn't been there ten minutes and we were already twenty bucks ahead!

I like Bluesville, and it's a shame that it mainly sees '70s rock bands and fading country stars from the '80s. The place is what you'd have if you had an honest-to-god, Mississippi delta juke joint with three bars that could seat three-thousand comfortably. Homey and run-down, yet very very large. We walked the periphery of the place, made it around to the far side and sat within spitting distance of the stage.

Here's who was sitting in front of us:

• "Captain Lou," as James dubbed him. This guy had on a gambling-themed print shirt, studded leather bracelets, one of those leather biker hats, and a goatee.
• Captain Lou's anemic paramour. "He might as well be wearing a catcher's mask," I told James.
• Skanky Skinny Eighties Chick, complete with spiky hair, short skirt and outrageous footwear.
• Divine, star of many a John Waters movie.

They were colorful.

Cyndi was simply delightful. She's cuter - and her voice sounds better - than she's ever been before. She walked through the crowd after the lights went down, singing Shebop. Shortly after that she descended into the crowd again, walking an arms-length away from me. Of course I touched her, even though I was not worthy.

She played all the hits, closing the first set with Money Changes Everything and riding on the back of her king-sized bass player. The encore was a dub version of Disco Inferno (her new single, apparently) and the song about girls having fun. Throughout she told funny stories and seemed to be having a good time.

She also had a violin player wearing fishnets, whom James and I were quite enamoured by.

After the show, I played a bit of blackjack and Sonya did a little roulette. We came out about ten dollars up. That, friends, is a winning night in Tunica.

Overall, it was a lot of fun.

Family Snapshot: Roxy is asleep in the chair, Sonya is asleep on the couch, and I am sitting in front of the Mac, cold beer in hand. It's a fine life I lead.

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