On the other hand, hundreds and hundreds of thousands more people read his Bleat than will ever read my journals.
Nonetheless, I'm savoring my meaningless accomplishment!
Otherwise, the latest fun was last night's Indigo Girls concert at the State Theater -- excuse me, "The Historic State Theater" -- in Minneapolis. A very nice show. The Girls were alone on stage, just the two of them and their various guitars, banjos, harmonicas and lutes. And they seemed to be having a really good time.
For those scoring at home, the setlist included:
Every concert that we've been to lately has featured an appearance by the Rabid Fan, an extremely tall and socially unskilled person who usually ends up in the seat in front of us. Her main characteristic is that she rocks or sways vigorously from side to side for the duration of the concert, which combined with her height makes enjoying the show rather challenging.
Last night as I went to get a drink (oddly, the Historic State Theater lets you drink during the performance), I passed the Rabid Fan just coming into the theater. New for this event: a banner. I could hardly wait.
Returning to my seat, I scanned the main floor below and soon spotted her seated in, of all things, the second row. Well, she was bound to have a fantastic time, as were the people in the third and fourth rows.
The Girls showed up and out came the banner, a one-by-four-foot flag supported by poles on either end. Through the fabric I could read a very large "MPLS" thickly painted, and then below it several more words, trailing off in the "I didn't think this through" font running up the side.
Well, that lasted all of about thirty seconds, the time it took an usher to crawl across in front of the front row and shine her flashlight in the Rabid Fan's face.
The concert proceeded without further incident, and afterwards I made a point of speaking to the Rabid Fan for the first time. "How did you," I didn't say "of all people", "manage to score second row seats?"
I had long thought second row seats were reserved for two people: the well-connected, and the radio winner.
"On Ebay," she said.
I think I fractured my skull pulling a "D'oh!".
I don't know why it never occurred to me that one of the two former categories might sell their front-row tickets. Well, yeah, actually I guess I know why, it's because I would never think of selling my front row tickets!
Anyway, I guess that will be the plan for the next concert. Of course I'll be in there bidding against the Rabid Fan...
This week a special treat for all my regular readers (and the two of you know who you are), TWO count 'em TWO concert reviews. On Tuesday night his friends are holding a cancer benefit (scroll down to "Tuesday" for my friend Steve. From lesbian folk to aging punk rock in three days time: better purchase some earplugs!