Are you wondering why in the world I am referring to myself as a pig? Well, silly, that is because I am a pig. No, not the kind of pig you are thinking of, although Ryan did call me Pig Pen in college. I may or may not have showered regularly post a rigorous soccer schedule. Gross, I know, but he didn’t seem to mind. Hehe. And isn’t it ironic, I spend almost every evening negotiating with my son to brush his tusks and scrub his manly bits and butt. If he only knew what a little dirtball his mom was back in the day. I shall never tell. But I digress. Today I am a different kind of a pig. I am the kind of pig that sings in a pretty stellar dad band, and that also just so happens to be our name. I know, I know. Why The Pigs? I’m not going to lie, I was kind of thinking the same thing in the beginning, but as it turns out, I can’t see us being called anything but The Pigs. And I must admit, the name makes for some funny banter on Pig text threads. I giggle every time I greet the men via text. “Sup Pigs!” But they are all far from pigs. The band is made up of 5 gents all funny in their own way, musically inclined, committed to their craft and ever so patient with my non-counting, rhythmless ways. I am honored to be a part of this ensemble and grateful for the periodic escape from the grit and grind of everyday life. We all need a little escape now and again don’t we? Damn straight! But don’t go thinking this is another piece written only to encourage you to take a leap and do something you have always wanted. No siree Bob. This right here is a shameless plug! That’s right!
Take a gander at your calendar. If you don’t have plans this January 21st and want to hear what one Pig describes as an “anthematic emotional rock and roll band with a classic, southern American vibe”, then for Pete’s sake, catch an Uber or the BNSF line out of Union Station and get delivered to Brixies in Brookfield. The Pigs will take the stage at 9pm and will jam until our little pig hearts explode!
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