It was a freezing cold Saturday night. As we walked down 2nd south to the Red Door my step-brother and I discussed our lovable local government. I’m halfway through the phrase “Glenn Beck-loving sons of…” when our conversation is abruptly halted. There’s a wait to get inside. A line at a local CD release show? Once we got inside, the guy at the door said “find a spot, wherever you can.” The place was packed.