My Quiet Life My Quiet Life

fan fair hate post

It’s that time of year, folks. Yes, it’s Fan Fair in Music City, which means it’s time for my yearly “i hate fan fair” bitch and moanfest.

Few things curdle my blood like the sight of the Toby Keith trailers lining up behind the arena and road barriers piled up on the side of the road, poised, ready to attack with merciless lane closures at any moment.

Fan Fair, where a 10 minute commute turns into 45 minutes of hell, navigating through a maze of closed streets and then plowing through masses of unwashed waddling tourists, awestruck by buildings taller than their municipal water tower back home.

Fan Fair, where people come from miles around to be appreciated as Fans by spending hundreds of dollars a pop to see massive, impersonal concerts in a stadium.

Fan Fair, the one week of the year that actually keeps the Hard Rock Cafe in business.

Fan Fair, my own personal hell.

I said it last year, and I’ll say it again. Fan fair sucks.