It’s taken me roughly four days to recover from my trip to Lincoln Land last week. It’s Wednesday evening and my body still feels a little tired from the shenanigans that happened on Saturday. Wanna know how you can tell you’re old? Because a hangover lasts three days.
Oh but it was worth it. The pain that follows the joy of Lincoln Land is always worth it.
The moment Chris and I pulled into Lincoln around 5 p.m. on Friday evening we looked at each other and said “this weekend is going to go way too fast.” And it did. A game day weekend back home with college pals always does. Because for twenty four hours we’re allowed to time travel to a simpler moment in our lives where the only thing that matters is which bar we are going to drink at and which tailgate we are going to stop by. For twenty four hours we get to remember what it’s like to be surrounded by all our favorite people. Rather than going out and knowing just a small handful, we know every one. And we’re all so genuinely happy to be drinking in each other’s company.
It’s Lincoln Land. That’s just how it goes. I don’t normally take shots of Sambuca. But in Lincoln Land I do. I don’t normally high five strangers on the street. But in Lincoln Land I do.
The fun began Friday night when I told jokes at Duffys. Before the show I went upstairs into the “Duffys Greenroom” and met Chris Reid, the guy I was opening for. Reid just happened to be texting his bestie, Dave Chappelle. No big deal. “You know how it is,” he said to me, truly believing I actually knew how it was, “we all know each other in the biz.” Totally, I lied. I know Chappelle. Ha.
The show was … good. I think. I was hot as hell under those lights and every time I made eye contact with someone I knew a little part of me wanted to go hide in the corner. Are they laughing? Are they judging? What is going on? Why do I insist on putting myself through this weird shit? I thought to myself through out the entire 25 minute set. Did I mention I did a 25 minute set?! That is a longggg time to be up there.
But I lived and was so happy to see everyone that came out. My Nebraska people are good folk. Except for the Nebraska assholes that towed my car Friday night around 12:30 a.m. That was not a good moment. Still a little salty about that… But I suppose it just wouldn’t be a real Lincoln night if I didn’t get towed.
Saturday morning the Lincoln Land fun got started bright and early. We went to my brother’s house for Bloodys around 11 a.m. And of course I outfitted everyone in Talk Herbie To Me gear.
After Jordan’s we rendezvoused downtown and I was amazed to see all the changes around Lincoln that had taken place in my absence. Chipotle is no longer the only restaurant downtown. De’Leons can’t be found anymore. And the Rail bathrooms are clean now! The mysterious water that always lined the floor is no more. And they even got fancy and put mirrors inside the bathroom stalls, so now you can watch yourself go to the bathroom. Perhaps that explains why the mysterious water has disappeared…
We made pit stops at The Bar (they put bacon in their Bloodys now woo!) the Downtown, the Rail, the Tavern, and we even ventured into the new Rail Yard. I know that place is great for Lincoln, but it’s not my scene. If I wanted to go to Power and Light I’d go to Power and Light.
But the best moment of the trip was the game. To be honest, the game is usually my least favorite part of a game day. But Saturday night was different for some reason. The stadium felt more alive than it has in years.
We ended the night at Lazarris and Amigos and I slept like a baby dreaming that I was covered in crisp meats and spicy chicken pizza.
And that’s what I love about Lincoln. I get older, but it stays the same age.
See you next year, Lincoln Land.
