A few months (or maybe even a year) ago a buddy revealed a pact he’d made with his brother-in-law to make a pilgrimage to Berlin to see Rammstein the next time they played there.

According to the pact there would be nothing on the itinerary but Rammstein. No field trips to the Black Forest or anything like that. Get in. See the show. Leave happy.

I thought it was a rad idea but I gotta say I had my doubts. Granted, this dude was front and center when punk rock exploded and has quite the hit list of concerts seen but as one of the most responsible people I know, I had my doubts Rammstein would happen- until random pics from Berlin started popping up on Instagram which culminated with this priceless gem Friday morning.

Somehow, someway he got the clearance to leave the family at home for a solo mission to Berlin. I don’t know where such a score would be kept but a pulling a move like that has to be some sort of record.

Then, yesterday this photo popped up on Facebook.



Somehow, someway a different buddy left behind his wife and two toddler sized children and stepped into a wormhole that took him from lovely Burbank to see the Giants play in the Super Bowl. We had dinner with them a couple weeks ago and the phrase “might go to the Super Bowl” never once fell out of his mouth.

Considering how sketched out he got when we bought tickets from a scalper for a random Dodger game, the fact that pulled off the manliest field trip known to man just boggles my mind in the best possible way.

When I showed his nosebleed view to my “roommate” she could could only stammer a reaction before I said, “It’s his Rammstein.”

Then it all made sense.

It’s Monday. Find your Rammstein then make a plan to make it happen.