Friend of the devil

Having learned most of what I know from Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies, there’s no place we could have been more excited to find ourselves on February 13, 2010 than Tasmania . . . with the possible exception of Pismo Beach.  (Why do you think we ended up in Hoboken in the first place?)  The concert took place at a winery, and if in some respects it suffered for not being the most rock ‘n’ roll of environments, at other times the environment was fantastically un-rock ‘n’ roll–ever since, we’ve tried without success to once more have a private chalet double as our dressing room.  “Let’s Save Tony Orlando’s House” as an encore?  Must’ve been a request.  The next day a local took us into the bush; OK, it was more of a petting zoo, but you can bet we heeded the warning: Box With Kangaroos at Your Own Risk.