On Tuesday night, a dream came true. No, I did not win the lottery, nor did I go on a date with Anna Kournikova. No, it was something much better than that.I saw a man who I have been trying to see for several years and have missed nearly 10 times.That man, “The Man” as I like to call him, is Willie Nelson.He did a show at the House of Blues, and I must say it was fantastic. He opened, as always, with “Whiskey River.”Now, I must admit that it was not quite as romantic as I figured it would be. Yes, Willie was a mere 10 to 15 feet away, and yes, he is better in person.But the 6-foot-5 guy directly in front of me provided an unexpected obstacle.Then there was the guy next to me. He seemed to think, perhaps because he was wearing a cap with the school’s hat, that “LLLLLLLLEEEEEEESSSSSSHHHHHUUUUUU” and Willie were somehow connected. And in case no one heard him the first five million times, he said it again for good measure.Then “Good Hearted Woman” came on.By this point, I remembered how good beer tastes, so I had a few of them, and the guy next to me wasn’t quite as comical as he once had been. In fact, I was getting a little enraged.Then Willie played a few Hank Williams songs, including “Jambalaya” and “Hey, Good Lookin’.”Then a new girl came around, and she had managed to weasel her way between me the group of middle-aged women standing behind me. She apparently felt that her best vantage point to get Willie’s attention and go home with him was to stand on my heels and the aforementioned middle-aged women’s toes.For obvious reasons, the women kindly asked the girl to move, at which point, the girl not-so-kindly reminded the women that they do not own those particular floorboards of the House of Blues.Then “Blue Eyes Cryin’ In the Rain” came on, and I went nuts.The women persisted, and the girl finally conceded defeat. But she wanted to prove that she was leaving of her own accord not because of their insistence.”You are nothing but evil, dried up c—!” she said.Then, came the “Whiskey River” reprise.Now, I would like to offer a nickel’s worth of free advice to all you folks out there who may have failed to grasp the nature of this column.If you go to see Willie, and you really should, try to enjoy the show instead of making everyone else’s experience miserable.That’s not to say that I was miserable. After all, “The Man” was standing 10 to 15 feet away. That alone made the night fantastic.But come on, people. Do you really have to call the lovely ladies something that rhymes with bunt?