By Colleen and Andy
I am fairly predictable – if there’s an Airborne show within a 200-mile radius, you can pretty much guarantee I’m going to be there. Sometimes my husband insists on going with me (he is the original fan, after all), and sometimes it’s just what the doctor ordered. A week of disappointments, disillusionment, and a sense of haunting grief had us ripened for the perfect antidote – a band that epitomizes melancholy at the same time it makes one glad to be alive.
When my Concert Buddy shot me an update earlier this year that The Airborne Toxic Event was headlining a festival in Columbus, there was no question of whether or not I was going. Then came the day the $5 tickets went on sale, and they sold out in less than…
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