Perhaps your Freudian slip is showing?
More vapid platitudes from Mike about his new partner whose musical oeuvre he assiduously reviews: 'Dreamy and tuneful, yet dynamic.' Wow. The work he must have put into that final draft.
What was that other piece he wrote? Where he didn't even bother getting up to see the band he was supposed to review? Still grinning? Like an idiot.
And it's still all about the Mike: 'I was married in a cactus field along it, though that didn’t quite work out.' What? The cactus field? If it had any sense, it'd sue for defamation by association. But wait, there's a grand metaphor with which Mike's beguiling us here: the road! And what Mike's kind of trying to lay onto us -if only we had his clarity of vision and stellar reach of imagination- is that Mike, well, Mike is the road! In as much as both are full of holes, a pain in the ass and take you someplace you sorely wish you hadn't bothered going.
Let's get this straight. 'Mike Smith' announces to himself, the world, his new partner, oh, and his wife, the mother of his kids and, oh, oh, his unborn kid, that December, well, in December, he saw a lot of great shows -too many to do them justice, apparently. We've all been there, right? Sure thing, Mike, with you so far. Oh, then he falls in love.
Just a minute, though. I have neither the measure, nor temper to paraphrase what this wanker (that's Mike, by the way) wrote. Bear in mind: this is absolutely the first his wife and kids got to hear about it and this is all the excuse and explanation they're ever about to get: A crappy review of a band in a freebie paper. Forever. Mike's kids, Mike's unborn kid.
Apparently, Mike's 'still grinning'.