Outside on the Off Broadway smoking patio, the whole hope thing was getting out of hand. "Do you have any joints?" some random dude inquired as I huddled next to the propane heater. "Joints? Plural?" I replied. "Would you settle for a three-day-old roach?" He wasn't settling. "Do you think they'll play, 'Soaky in the Pooper'?" someone else asked. One could only hope. It was the first Lambchop show in St. Louis in a decade; spirits were plainly high.
