On Saturday morning there was quite a bit of snow outside, but we made the kids shovel the sidewalk and driveway. Therefore, it was completely painless for Toney and me. Yes, I think the boys could see their futures flashing before their eyes… It certainly won’t be their final shovel-session.
I also watched Tucker & Dale vs. Evil on Netflix Instant, which I loved. Thanks to the person who suggested it in the comments! And I got some much-needed sleep, yet was somehow able to mark 13 items off my big 17 item to-do list.
It was pretty close to perfect: the kind of weekend you hope for and rarely get. I hated to see it end, but believe I’m only working my normal four days this week, which will be a slam-dunk. It’ll be over in the wink of a sphincter.
On Friday I bought a case of Yuengling, and picked up a local freebie entertainment newspaper on my way out the door. When I got home I flipped through it, and checked out the concert listings. I only go to one or two shows per year at this point, but still look to see who’s coming, out of habit.
I was surprised to see that The Amazing Kreskin(!) will be making an appearance in Scranton. He was on TV when I was a kid, and seemed old then. What is he now, 103?? Tickets are $15 general admission, or $35 for the show and a meet-and-greet afterward. I wouldn’t mind going, if you want to know the truth.
There will also be a craft beer festival at the Scranton Cultural Center, in mid-April. Over 50 breweries will be represented. Toney and I will probably end up going to that shindig. ‘Cause we love that kind of “culture.”
But as far as music goes… nothing. Oh well. Who cares? I’d probably just wimp-out anyway, like I did a few weeks ago when Steve Earle played here. Earle, of course, is my favorite communist country & western singer, and I vowed to go to his show. But did I? No I did not. I’ve become a true blue ball-baby bitch, when it comes to live music.
And to make me feel a little better about it, I’ve decided to briefly tell you about a few especially annoying people I’ve encountered at rock shows in the past. Of course I’ve been to hundreds of them, and this list isn’t very long. But let’s not dwell on that part of it, shall we?
I’m sure I’m forgetting some great tales, but here are the stories that jump immediately to my mind. After I’m finished, please feel free to keep the ball rolling in the comments.
When I was in early high school, I went to the Huntington Civic Center to see Foreigner, Wet Willie, and Nantucket. Well, I actually went to see Foreigner… those other bands just happened to be playing as well.
In front of me were two guys snorting cocaine (I presume) off a tiny spoon that one of them had around his neck on a chain. This freaked me out, because I’d never seen anyone actually snorkel drugs up their nose like that. It made me feel creepy.
And the guy who wasn’t sporting the spoon had a giant zit on the back of his neck. It was the size of a nickel, with a big pus eye in the middle of it. The dude was all cranked up and constantly in motion. And that staring pimple almost hypnotized me; I hated it, but couldn’t look away.
The whole ordeal made me want to go home, pause briefly in the doorway, and hug my parents.
When Steve and I went to see Steely Dan at The Omni in Atlanta, an old black man was dancing around in front of us, holding his trench coat as wide open as possible and blocking the view of dozens of people behind him. Including us.
People started hollering: “Sit down! We can’t see back here!!”
And the old guy turned and yelled, “No, you stand up! You conservative punks!!”
WTF? It got fairly heated, and the old coat-dancer would NOT back down. He announced that he was a longtime fan of Donald Fagen(?!), and was going to have a good time. So, fuck all y’all.
Eventually an usher made the guy sit down or move, I can’t remember. But the ridiculousness didn’t last long. I thought “conservative punks” was an odd thing to say, and was also surprised to learn of his allegiance to just one specific member of the band.
At a Paul Westerberg show, at the Cotton Club in Atlanta, some guy kept slamming and knocking into people, and punches were almost thrown.
I’ve been to lots and lots of shows, and know the protocol. There’s a mosh pit, in front of the stage, for certain acts. But further back is supposed to be reserved for regular people who just want to see the band. This guy was far outside the mosh area, but was bouncing around and nearly knocking people to the floor. He was acting like he was at a Sex Pistols show in 1977.
He bumped into me a few times, and I let it go. But eventually I snapped. I shoved him hard, and told him to get off me. He regained his footing and charged at me, but I was furious and came at him, as well. And he backed-down. When he realized I was pissed and ready to fight, he lost his nerve. Of course he probably would’ve kicked my ass… but luckily it didn’t go that far. The guy just rammed his way through the crowd, and was gone.
A few of the other people nearby thanked me, and patted me on the back. The dude was a blue-ribbon asshole, and I’d somehow vanquished him. It was good stuff.
And finally, at a big-time arena show in Greensboro… It was either AC/DC or ZZ Top, but it doesn’t really matter. Everybody was drunk, there were millions of hicks in the house, and many of them were cranking off rebel yells and the like.
Between the opening act and the headliner I was horrified to realize I needed to take a leak. And it probably wasn’t holdable.
So, I went to the men’s room and it was complete pandemonium, as I knew it would be. Everybody was yelling and shoving, and pissing into anything even vaguely bowl-like. And that included three or four guys per sink, a couple at each trash can, and one dude standing in the middle of the room, wiener-out, urinating straight into the floor drain between his feet.
It was a sea of penises, and the roar was not unlike Niagara Falls. Guys were peeing and hollering “WHOOOOO!!” like they were riding a roller coaster, and a few had their shirts off and whipping them above their heads. While pissing. I was kinda worried about my safety.
But I made it. I was a snob and waited for an actual fancy-pants toilet. And I got out of there without receiving a stripe of urine across my back, or anything like that. But it was definitely touch and go for a few minutes.
Now it’s your turn. Please use the comments section to tell us your stories about annoying people at rock concerts.
And I’ll see you guys again tomorrow.
Have a great day!