I’m not going to fucking lie: it’s not inconceivable that on Sunday I’m going to pay $40 to see the Jefferson Starship at the State Theater in Falls Church. This I (may) do because I am compelled. Like Bruce Wayne.

Blah blah blah long story short, among the indignities your parents put you through — in my case at least — is inculcating an unhealthy obsession with the musical entity that began life as the Jefferson Airplane. (Why does a Jew like me have an insufferably Anglo-Saxon first name? Because it was the name of the Airplane’s drummer. Thanks for that.) I’ve seen the Jefferson Starship and Hot Tuna probably ten times since I was 12. All I’ll say is that the second side to Blows Against The Empire, the first Kantner/Slick project under the name Jefferson Starship, is a classic of space rock, and the Starship are otherwise terrible. But some people go to church because they feel the burden of a family legacy; others pay $40 to see the Jefferson Starship.

It gets worse. For $60 you get to meet Paul Kantner and Marty Balin. I actually have a lot of things I’d want to ask them. And if I’m already paying the sickening $40 ticket price, isn’t it worth $20 more to have a few questions answered? (Possibly not. I actually just ran through the inevitable "Yes, I’m named after Spencer Dryden…" conversation through my mind, and it’s excruciating even before it’s real. Why couldn’t I have been named either Mick, Joe, Paul or Topper?)