Monday, July 19, 2010

Concert Thoughts

I was stuck in line at Comic-Con today, wondering what to do, and I remembered how Big and I went to a concert together last Saturday. He said he was going to blog about the one interesting thing that happened, so I didn’t bother. But now I wonder if I should have.

Concert thoughts

So, I went to a concert with Big the other day. He told me he was anxious to write about it in his blog, and I figured I’d let him do so, since I’m pretending to be busy right now.

And it turns out that he did blog about it, extensively, including pictures and everything. He certainly said more than I would have, if it had been up to me.

But strangely, it made me want to blog about it anyway, and say a couple of the things that he didn’t say in his own version.

The weather was great, and the music was too. I found myself in a good mood, and really grateful to have a friend who would go to the concert with me (even if it cost way more than he could readily pay). In younger years, I remember artists coming in concert that I very much wanted to go see, but I didn’t have anybody who would go with me, so of course, I didn’t go. That was always a bummer. My buddy Rhett said there was nothing shameful in going to a concert by yourself, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Now, I guess I’d have no problem with it, but I certainly wouldn’t have gone to this one if Big hadn’t come along. I don’t imagine there are any artists I’d care about enough to go see them on my own anymore (not unless Oingo Boingo reformed for some one-night-only benefit show or something).

Oh, so yeah, he hoped Ben Folds would play a certain song, and played it, and then hoped there’d be some boobage, and then a girl beside us fell out of her dress. He said that in his blog, so there’s no reason for me to.

I went to a Sting concert a month or two back, and it was awesome. Totally unusual and memorable. But I’m not sure how many more concerts I’m going to go to.

The truth is, I’ve grown pretty weary of concerts in my old age. When I was a teen, I’d go to these awful local shows that were really more about an excuse to fight (or get beat up, in my case) than appreciate any kind of music. In my teens and twenties, I went to a couple of concerts by bands that I don’t even like anymore. And today, I just don’t care enough to camp out or stand in line for a chance to buy Food For Feet tickets. I’d rather go to a movie, or just get a pizza (though it’s nigh unto impossible where I live to go into a pizza place, order one, and sit down and eat it. I’m not sure why that was phased out in favor of the to-go pizza place, but I hate it. To me, pizza is not fast food, it’s something you eat with your friends and family; it’s a social food, like champagne is a social drink*), or just save my money for a move that may never happen.

I’ve never been popular with the ladies (I was listening to “The Last Picture Show” by Larry McMurtry on the drive down, and it really got me depressed (is that how easy it all is, really?), and I guess I never will. But I have been graced with a couple of good, loyal friends, and I do appreciate that.

So, as I said, I was happy that Big, despite whatever hell he caught from the missus for it, jumped in a car on a Saturday night and went to the show with me. I'd never been to that particular venue (although they change their names so often I'd never know if I had), and it was remote but pretty.

Ben Folds is one of those artists whose work (particularly the lyrics) really speak to me. I got the chance to meet him a few years ago, and I found myself unable to express how much his songs. . . how much I identify with . . . how much I’m able to see in those songs a bit of . . . See?

My friend Merrill told me the other day that he doesn’t hate nearly the amount of music that I do. I initially took umbrage with that, since he always goes on and on about how much he hates Tina Turner, and she’s pretty darn great, so there’s that. But maybe I do hate more music than he does, since he likes a bunch of Portuguese-singing artists, and I think it’s fair to say I’d hate each and every one of them. But I also love a good deal of artists, and a virtual ton of songs.

For my birthday last week, my (extended) family got together and went to a karaoke bar just across the street from K-mart (you know the one). As I’ve said time and again, I love karaoke, and while I’m not a fan of bars, I’ve found one kind I could go to over and over again. I meant to blog about that night, and how my uncle got up and dedicated Let's Get It On to me, and how I dedicated Sweet Transvestite to my father (who had long since gone back home). But I didn't.

Well, aside from my cousin with Down Syndrome, there was nobody more excited about getting up and singing that night as I was. I got up with total stranger to do Bohemian Rhapsody, and sang Pat Benetar with my niece. Singing karaoke (or doing karaoke, or performing karaoke, whatever you call it) is a joyous thing for me, and I hope the fun is infectious.

As I was looking through their book, I found dozens of songs I would’ve loved to sing, and wrote down far more than I’d ever get to. I probably could’ve sung a song from every page in that huge book. So while it’s maybe true I hate more music that Merrill does (there’s not a single Katy Perry or Lady Gaga song out there I can stomach), I’d wager I LOVE a lot more music than he does.

But I don’t know. Heck, he claims to like Opera.

Rish "MusicMaster" Outfield

*Yep, I just compared pizza to champagne. But at least I spelled it right.

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