Hey Mr. Driver-Man, don't be so slow
Apr. 18th, 2004 11:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
judecorpSeeing 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 withBrandie 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
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.
