Hey Mr. Driver-Man, don't be so slow
Apr. 18th, 2004 11:12 amSeeing The Violent Femmes was everything I ever expected it to be, really, with the exception of the enormous very drunk and obnoxious man who kept pushing people and his obnoxious and very drunk snaggletoothed wife who could knock out three rows of people with her headbanging hair. One of the funniest silent moments of the evening was when I caught the eye of a chick who was hit with the hair so many times that she had pushed back a crowd of people. She mouthed to me, with hand gestures, "We must make room for The Hair." You could almost see the capital letters.
It was definitely a sing-along, and they played almost everything I would have wanted them to. I called
Jodie's voicemail during "Gone, Daddy, Gone," and later couldn't remember if she liked that song or not, but "Blister in the Sun" came so early that I'd forgotten I had my phone.
I don't know why I don't hang out with
Brandie or
Missy more often because I really enjoy their company. And not just because they were pressed up against me or anything. I wore my super-yellow "Hotdog Wally" tshirt which I think was perfect for the occasion, and I stole Bert's hat for a while. We were all big fans and every time I could feel
Sean's excited screaming vibrating my back I had to smile. Everyone was just having so much fun. The Femmes are so old but they are still amazing.
I had this total post-concert glow about me as we all walked home from the venue. Everything was right with the world, including sore calves from jumping up and down, and a voice strained from shouting. Everything! Everything! Everything! Everything!
Until the last five minutes of the walk when I got incredibly hurt feelings and just, well, deflated. While I appreciate the guts it took for the conversation, and the underlying sentiment of it, I guess I'm just of the opinion that if someone thinks they've been unfair to me, I'd rather them realize it themselves and change (or not change) it than point out to me that something's happened. Because then I ended up finishing my walk alone, in the quiet night, just thinking about it all. I guess I'd rather gone home thinking about my sore voice and my ringing ears, vibrating bass bits and showmanship drums, good company and great music.
It's Sunday morning and I don't think I could ever drink enough orange juice.
It was definitely a sing-along, and they played almost everything I would have wanted them to. I called
I don't know why I don't hang out with
I had this total post-concert glow about me as we all walked home from the venue. Everything was right with the world, including sore calves from jumping up and down, and a voice strained from shouting. Everything! Everything! Everything! Everything!
Until the last five minutes of the walk when I got incredibly hurt feelings and just, well, deflated. While I appreciate the guts it took for the conversation, and the underlying sentiment of it, I guess I'm just of the opinion that if someone thinks they've been unfair to me, I'd rather them realize it themselves and change (or not change) it than point out to me that something's happened. Because then I ended up finishing my walk alone, in the quiet night, just thinking about it all. I guess I'd rather gone home thinking about my sore voice and my ringing ears, vibrating bass bits and showmanship drums, good company and great music.
It's Sunday morning and I don't think I could ever drink enough orange juice.
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Date: 2004-04-18 03:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-18 06:16 pm (UTC)It was a good time!
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Date: 2004-04-18 03:26 pm (UTC)Gordon is short.
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Date: 2004-04-18 06:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-18 05:52 pm (UTC)I watched the guy in front of me attempt to surreptitiously light the hem of Blimpy's polyester shirt on fire with a cigarette. Sure it was passive-aggressive, but I was rooting for him nonetheless.
That one chick feigned a fall, and I understand why (more passive aggressiveness).. but nobody batted an eye.
I talked to the security guy after the show, because I was pissed that he didn't remove the bright red buckeye asshole. He told me that, in the pit, anything goes as long is doesn't involve a closed fist. Pushing, shoving, moshing, hockey-style bodychecks, crowd surfing. They won't interfere unless a punch is thrown.
I wish that I had known that, because if I hadn't enjoyed the music so much and decided to let other people's obnoxious behavior ride so I could listen to the band, I probably would have made more of a concerted effort to fuck with him.
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Date: 2004-04-18 06:22 pm (UTC)Large, tall people have rights to see concerts, too. But they /have/ to know that they are taking a lot of room and blocking and shoving smaller people. I don't understand rude people who like to get in your face to try to intimidate you into not calling out their rudeness.
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Date: 2004-04-18 09:09 pm (UTC)And there always seems to be some sort of annoyance at every concert I go to. . .what really bothers me is when it's clearly not "sing along time," but that doesn't stop someone from singing along (loudly and off-key) with each song.
One of my students has a "Add it Up" and "Blister in the Sun" ring tones for his cell phone. The coolness of that alone makes me want to get a cell phone again.
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Date: 2004-04-18 10:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-19 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-19 09:46 pm (UTC)