amplified to rock
Blah blah blah TIRED, blah blah blah SLEEP: After the Soft Boys show ended, we decided to pay the $4 extra admission to see Fuck and The Minders down at 7th Street Entry. 7th Street Entry reminds me of a cross between the late, great Lounge Ax (seamy basement feel, tiny cramped space, little raised things to sit on) and the Empty Bottle (weird shape, attitude). The first band, The Fire Show, was just finishing up when we got in. I was glad that they were just finishing up because I don't know if I could have handled half an hour of whatever it is they were doing up on stage. The singer was lying on his back on the stage for no apparent reason. Matty said he wanted to get closer to his emotions. Maybe that's right, but I wasn't really impressed with it. Aaron and I sat down and we proceeded to bitch and moan about how tired we were. It was his third consecutive night of little or no sleep, and it was my second, so we were all about the non-stop bitching and moaning excitement. I asked MJ to buy me a Coke the next time he went over to the bar, and I drank it, and the caffeine didn't help. At all.
The Minders were really fun. I think I saw them open for Elliott Smith at some point, but I don't recall enjoying their set as much as I did this last time. Perhaps I was just too excited about seeing Elliott Smith and I didn't want to stand around through an opening act. I own a Minders CD, I've been trying to figure out where I put it, but I haven't been able to locate it yet. After their set, MJ went over and talked to them at length. I said hello and they seemed friendly. That's always a plus.
Between the Minders and Fuck, Aaron and I continued sitting around bitching and moaning about how tired we were. We discussed leaving MJ and Matty and getting a cab and going back to the room ourselves just so we could get an extra hour of sleep, but by the time we got around to motivating ourselves to do so, Fuck's set was almost over and there was no sense in splitting up. Besides, cab fare from First Avenue to our hotel (way out near the Mall of America) would probably cost around $20, and none of us were exactly rolling in cash, so it was best to conserve resources and just sweat it out for the extra hour.
Fuck's set was worth the exhaustion--they put on a really good show. They're good musicians and they have personality on stage--instead of just standing around looking bored, they get really into what they do. Not in a contrived sort of way, but you get the feeling that they're really having a good time performing. After the show, Matty went to talk to Geoff, who is a childhood friend of his. I said hello briefly and the following exchange ensued:
Me: Do you have that shirt (pointing at shirt with a cartoon drawing of a pickle and a donut with the word "fuck") in any size that isn't one of those little tiny babydoll t-shirts?
Geoff: No, I think we only have that small size. We're out of the larger sizes.
Me: Damn. I like that shirt.
Geoff: Why don't you just get the small one?
Me: Because it would look funny on me.
It would. First of all, I'm twenty-six years old. Contrary to popular belief, I'm very aware of my age. Granted, if I had the body to pull off a babydoll t-shirt, I just might try it. But I don't. So I don't even bother. I could have bought the t-shirt and just worn a sweater over it, thus hiding the fact that it's a babydoll t-shirt, but then the picture would probably be obscured and the picture was the entire point of owning the t-shirt. So no Fuck shirt for me, which is too bad because it was really a very funny t-shirt.
I had one thing standing in my way before I could leave downtown Minneapolis for the glorious haven that was my hotel room bed: I had to uncheck my coat. My coat was still checked upstairs, so I had to brave the cheesy danceclub crowd to get it back. Since MJ was engrossed in conversation with someone or another, I grabbed his coat check ticket and went to pick up his coat as well.
I'm certainly no stranger to cheesy danceclubs. I used to be fairly into clubbing a couple of years back, and I know how sleazy it can get. But nothing prepared me for the scene I would encounter upstairs at First Avenue. The friendly, calm Soft Boys fans who had occupied the venue earlier in the evening had been replaced with drunk guys fully intent on groping any female who crossed their paths. Including me. I was a little disturbed by this, partially because getting groped by people you don't know is always disquieting, but also because I wasn't dressed nearly as provocatively (hell, I wasn't dressed provocatively at all) as many of the other women in the club. If I got groped while wearing baggy pants and a loose-fitting t-shirt, what happened to the girls who were wearing vinyl pants and revealing halter tops? Frankly, I don't want to know.
So I fought my way through the crowd, got my coat and MJ's sweatshirt, and started fighting my way back out. A very drunk guy offered me his hand and winked at me, I just sort of cringed and shrunk back, wondering why the hell he did that. He apologized. I just sort of half smiled and muttered "it's okay."
When I got back downstairs into 7th Street Entry, MJ was still talking to someone or another, Matty was talking to Geoff, and Aaron was waiting impatiently to leave. Aaron and I stepped out into the little hallway separating the two parts of the club, and I swiped a Spoon poster off the wall. A woman came into the hallway yelling into her cellphone. She had a really abrasive voice, and it annoyed us so much that we ended up retreating back into the club just to escape her. We finally grabbed MJ and forcibly removed him from his conversation, Matty joined us, and we were out the door.
I don't blame the Minneapolitans for the assholery I saw at First Avenue that night. I think a lot of the drunk assholes were out-of-towners visiting for the NCAA tournament. Many of these same (or just very similar) drunk assholes were trying to hail cabs at the same time we were. This did not exactly make for a good time. It took us twenty minutes to get a cab, and the driver didn't speak very good English and he didn't know where our hotel was and none of us had any idea what to tell him. This, coupled with my very foul and angry mood, made for a miserable ride home. All I wanted was silence. I just wanted to sleep.
I got to share the big hotel bed with MJ. He slept on the window side, and I slept on the door side. I told him that I didn't want to wake up to find him spooning me. It wasn't really possible because we were separated by quite a bit of space. He did hog the blankets a lot, though. And Matty snored like a warthog.
At 6:50 in the morning, the phone rang. (Actually, it was 7:50, but none of us bothered to set the clock ahead for daylight savings time.) MJ picked it up because he was closest to the phone. All I heard was some groggy "uh...yeah"s and then he handed the phone over to me. It was Brian. He was on his way. I was confused because I thought we were going out a little bit later, but I told him I'd take a shower and I'd be waiting. Another night of only five hours of sleep! Yay!
My timing was perfect--I was walking out as he was walking in. I had left all the breakfast decisions up to him because it's his town and he knows what's good. So we went BOWLING!
I have not been bowling in years, and I've always been really, really bad at it. I was in a bowling league in sixth grade, and I actually helped my team because my handicap was so high. I think my all-time low game was a 3. Yes, a 3. I did much better than a 3 this time, but Brian still whooped my ass twice. At one point, I actually managed to drop my bowling ball on my foot. Yes, it hurt. A lot. Surprisingly, though, my toe wasn't smashed or bruised at all. I told you there was something special about me--I obviously have a magic toe. I think this probably qualifies me for sainthood, though Tim thinks otherwise. Bah to him.
About halfway through our second game, two little kids came up to us and started watching us play. The boy was maybe eight years old, the girl was two or three. The girl was most interested in playing with the pencils, and the boy was most interested in watching us bowl. Best comment: the bowling alley attendant went up to the lane next to ours and put up the bumpers. The little boy looks at her, then looks at me, then says "I think you should put those up on their lane too. I think she needs them."
Brian made fun of my bowling technique. I approach the lane quickly, then I stop abruptly, then I bowl. Therefore, any momentum I pick up from my approach is automatically lost because of the abrupt stop. Maybe that's why I suck.
Over breakfast, we talked about many things, including bad pop music. We bonded over our shared love of "The Thong Song" and "Independent Women Part I." We both prefer NSync to the Backstreet Boys, and Brian thinks that Justin Timberlake should definitely release a solo album. It was a very good time, and I probably could have spent all day hanging around with him, but he had an interview at noon so he had to go. I got back to the hotel around 10:30, all bubbly and chipper because I had had a good morning. Nobody expected me to be in a good mood so I think I surprised everyone.
This story will be finished today, I hope. If not today, then sometime this weekend. I also have the March month-in-review to write and plenty of other stuff. I'm behind because I've been doing this super-detailed Minneapolis trip report...but I think it's worth it. I'll be back to the normal stuff next week.
No time for love, Dr. Jones... It may be my day off, but I'm busy, busy, busy! I got up early, I finished the last book I had to read for my Stein/Hemingway class, I wrote out an outline for my education thesis (the one that I've been "working" on for over a year now), I drove out to Indiana University Northwest and had my advisor approve the outline, I made an appointment with the grad student advisor to ensure that everything is in order for graduation, I did a little bit of research, and now I'm home. In another 45 minutes or so, I'm going to head over to Tim's so we can eat Thai food and watch
Survivor and then maybe go out for
ice cream!
I also dropped a couple of those little throwaway cameras off at Walgreens so I can finally get the film developed. One of them is from December-February, the other is from February-April. I have no idea what's on that first camera, so it will be interesting to see what pictures I took.
It's warm outside and my flowers are starting to poke up out of the ground. Three of my five bleeding heart plants are up now, and there's some tulips and daffodils getting ready to bloom in the yard. Yeah, like you're interested in my damn plants...I promise this isn't going to turn into a "garden journal," but it's nice to see living things in the garden after such a long, miserable, crappy winter.
Rockin' out in a strange city: So we were all hungry. A few friendly Minneapolitans had sent me recommendations for places to eat, so I whipped out my list and started looking at it. Two people mentioned a pizza place that was described as being "really close to First Avenue" but nobody told me exactly *where*. The boys weren't willing to get lost again (and I can't blame them for that, it was fucking cold out there) so we ended up at a Mexican place just up the street. It's one of those chain places, I can't remember the name but the food was decent. I drank a very large strawberry margarita. Our waitress had family in Decatur, so we talked to her about good ol' D-town.
MJ is, quite possibly, the slowest eater on earth. I don't know if it's just that he likes to savor his food or that he talks so much that he never bothers to put food in his mouth. Either way, he's always at least twenty minutes behind everyone else at the table. This was no exception. All we wanted to do was leave and go to the show, but MJ still had a huge plate full of food left, and he showed no sign of being anywhere near finishing it. We finally had to force him to stop talking and start eating--which is a pretty typical event when dining with MJ.
I was impressed with First Avenue. I think it's larger than the Metro (those of you who have been to both clubs can back me up or prove me wrong) and it's definitely more comfortable. The stage seemed a lot higher than the Metro stage, and the bars were a lot more strategically placed. Plus, they had a couple of pinball machines and some other arcade games, so I spent some good quality time playing pinball. I begged quarters off the boys and spent some time hanging out near the change machine. My first game was my best, it was all downhill from there.
John Wesley Harding's set wasn't the same musically, but he told the exact same stories he told in Chicago. They weren't as funny as they were the first time. I think I spent part of his set playing pinball.
The Robyn Hitchcock fanatics were there with their balloon requests again. I don't know if they were successful in getting any of their requests played, but I still thought it was a good idea. One of the balloons ended up getting bounced back to the back of the crowd, but someone finally swatted it forward and it made it on to the stage. The wait between bands was a lot shorter in Minneapolis, though I'm not 100% sure exactly how long we waited.
The Chicago Soft Boys show was good. The Minneapolis show was better. It was a general consensus that the Minneapolis show was better, so I know it's not just me. The set list differed slightly, they played "Airscape" and Aaron freaked out. Well, he didn't freak out as much as I had expected him to. But he was really excited. First Avenue was crowded but it didn't feel as oppressive and icky as the same sort of crowd at Metro. And I thought the audience was a bit more polite and pleasant than most Chicago audiences--I didn't notice any shoving or rudeness.
Towards the end of the show, when I was busily gnawing on ice cubes, Brian came up and introduced himself. We talked for a few minutes between encores, and then proceeded to chat a bit after the show. I talked him into sitting on this interactive video game thing and then I had Matty take a picture of us. He said "I get the feeling this is going to end up on the internet." Well, Brian, it will only end up on the Internet if it's a flattering picture. We both have Very Important Images to uphold, right?
One of the things we discussed were our plans for breakfast. Since Brian had an interview at noon, we made plans to meet for breakfast at 9 AM. That way, we would all be able to get some sleep and then eat a good breakfast. Soon after, Brian left to go back to housesitting at the House with the Creepy Dolls and the Cat that Wouldn't Leave Him Alone, and the boys and I went downstairs to 7th Street Entry to see The Minders and Fuck.
And I will tell you about that later. And also about how much I hate drunken assholes, how difficult it is to find a cab in downtown Minneapolis when the NCAA basketball tournament is going on, what it's like to sleep in the same bed with MJ, which one of the boys snores like a warthog, and about breakfast with Brian. And bowling. And the allure of a Justin Timberlake solo album.
I promise, I'll talk about Minneapolis more when I get out of class tonight: This is funny, though. Kim (of
Fresh Hell) created a family of
celebrity Sims based on Julia Roberts, Russell Crowe, Britney Spears, and Fred Durst. She put them in a house together and let them interact. It starts off a little bit slow, but once they start falling in love with each other, the results are hilarious. I especially love the captions in the scrapbook.
Also, thanks to everyone who has sent me information about cheap domain name renewal. I'll post the recommendations later tonight so everyone can take advantage of it.
Several people have mentioned the David Foster Wallace article in the newest issue of Harper's. I picked up a copy last night and started sneaking peeks at it in between chapters of Ernest Hemingway's A Moveable Feast (the last book for my Stein/Hemingway class! yay!). Believe the hype, it's hilarious. Also, I watched a really bad show on MTV last night, something about the history of sex on MTV. I can't believe I stayed up until 1 AM watching that crap.
We interrupt this story for... It's time for me to renew my domain name. I got the invoice from Network Solutions yesterday (yeah, I originally registered spoonbender.org with them, because back then I *had* to) and I can't afford to pay $35/year to renew the name. I know there's cheaper places out there, places that will renew the domain name for $10 or $15/year, but I don't know how reputable they are and I don't want to deal with any screw-ups or downtime. I know a lot of you have domains of your own, so I want to know what your experiences have been with renewing your domain through a cheaper registrar. I just want this all to go smoothly, and I don't want to get stuck paying $70. Send me email,
recommend something. Thanks!
Adventures in the icy tundra: I'm not good with the phone. I hate calling people. It's something I've tried many, many times to overcome, but it never works.
But sometimes, I've just got to swallow the fear and pick up the phone and dial. And dial I did. I ended up talking to Brian for twenty minutes or so, while the boys sat around looking impatient with me. They wanted to do something. I was content socializing.
Did I mention that once I get on the phone and relax, I will talk people's ears off?
Brian was trying on clothes because he had an interview on Sunday. He was looking for something that looked casual, yet nice. He found the perfect ensemble while we were talking on the phone--well, it was perfect except for the chocolate stains on the pants. Heh. So we talked about that, and about a bunch of other little things, and blah blah and blah. It was cool. But I got the hint from the boys, who were becoming restless, and I got off the phone. I figured there would be plenty more time for socializing with Brian later.
Aaron was trying to figure out how to get to downtown Minneapolis via public transportation. The extraordinarily unhelpful front desk people had no clue, and they told us that a cab downtown would cost approximately $20 each way. Yikes. Eventually, we figured out that there was a bus stop at the Mall of America, which was walking distance from where we were staying. We all got our shit together and left.
The mall was packed, and the place is cavernous. Fortunately, there are a lot of little "you are here" type signs, and we found our way to the public transportation hub easily. We asked the friendly woman at the information desk which bus we should take, and she pointed us in the right direction. Of course, the bus we wanted had just left, so we stood around and waited a while. I asked Matty how much the bus was going to cost because he had the map and I wanted to get my money together. He said $1 and this really bitchy woman in line behind me rolled her eyes and sighed and said "It's a dollar fifty. It's an EXPRESS BUS. I wanted to kick her sorry Minneapolitan ass and say "I'm from Chicago, yo, don't act like I just walked off the dairy farm." But I didn't.
Aaron and I sat next to each other on the bus ride and spent most of the time examining the Mall of America directory. He expressed interest in the "I Dream of Beanies" kiosk and I decided that it would be really cool to go to "Zap! Make Your Own Cap" and create an Amplified to Rock baseball hat. We thought about having one of those old-time photos taken with MJ as the husband, Aaron as the wife, and Matty and I as the kids. In a covered wagon. I was both drawn to and disgusted by the Mall of America. Most of it is the same shit you'll find anywhere else, but it's just on such an enormous scale. The place has four, count 'em, FOUR, Sunglass Huts. Insane.
We got off the bus in downtown Minneapolis and proceeded to wander aimlessly until I (yes, I) figured out the grid. Aaron wanted to bicker with me about it because he doesn't like it when I'm right (and he'll probably give me shit for saying that! Haha! But it is true!). After walking around in the cold-ass Minneapolis wind, we finally found First Avenue.
Brief interlude: I was accepted into the Indiana University Bloomington School of Library and Information Science. They're not giving me any financial aid, though. I'm not sweatin' it because they were my backup school. Now I just need to hear from University of Illinois...
The outside of First Avenue is cool because it's painted black with silver stars. On the silver stars are the names of artists who have performed at First Avenue. We spent a good fifteen minutes walking around the building looking at the stars. I took Matty's picture in front of the Pixies star. I wanted my picture taken in front of the Weezer star, but it was way up on the top of the building and therefore, it wasn't feasible. Blah.
We were all hungry, so we decided to track down some food. But you'll have to wait if you want to know what we ate and how we ate it. In the next episode, you'll also find out about the inside of First Avenue, my secret life as a Pinball Wizard, the Soft Boys show, and much, much more. But now, I have to go vote (it's election day for local and township officials here in my area!) and I have to go to school. I also have to check my post office box. You want to write me snail mail? I put the address there in the sidebar for you. If you write me real paper letters, I'll write you back. It will take me a while (everything takes me a while) but I will. You can also send me mix tapes/CDs or tapes of your band, and in exchange I'll send you a mix tape or CD. Yay! I love a full mailbox.
Linky love...updated. I cleaned up the links, removed some pages that haven't been updated in over a month and a few that I don't read, and added some new links. If I missed you, send me an
email and let me know. I think I added everything that I've discovered recently, though I still have to go through and add some of the
Indieblogs people whose pages I read.
I'll write more about Minneapolis tomorrow...now I'm sleepy. Good night.
That's when the party started, as far as I know... There was some debate regarding breakfast. I was all for some McDonalds breakfast (yes, I have some pretty gross eating habits), and it seemed like MJ was up for some McMuffin action as well. But the nearest McDonalds was quite a ways away, and though I was willing to drive to get there, I didn't know how much time it would end up taking. So I finally motivated myself and said that I would go down to The Bagel to pick up, well, bagels for breakfast. Aaron was in the shower, Matty was checking his email, and MJ was watching an infomercial for some exercise machine, so I collected money and orders and prepared to leave. Then we looked at the time and decided that it might be better to just run to Walgreens and pick up snack food and eat at the airport.
That's where the Sweet and Crunchy Peanuts enter the picture.
I first consumed this delicious snack on last summer's Boston trip. I found them at a Target in New Hampshire and I couldn't resist them. I ended up sitting on Ray's couch and eating the whole can in a couple of days. I assumed that they weren't available around here because I had never seen them at the store. Maybe I just wasn't looking hard enough, because I found them at the Walgreens down the street from Matty's. We gorged ourselves on them on the way to the airport.
We got to the airport in plenty of time, which is a good thing because all the economy parking lots were full. We pulled up and the lot attendant handed us a flyer telling us where to go. It was a $25 flat fee for parking, which I found a little bit excessive considering we'd be parked for just a little bit over a day. I think the best part of the interaction with the parking lot attendant was when I said "well, shit!" and she said "thank you." I didn't quite get that. But oh well.
So we followed the directions and we drove down to the remote lot and left the Charming Car there. The lot was kind of crappy and full of holes, and I did not like leaving my car there because it didn't look particularly secure. We boarded the shuttle, which was crowded with people, and got to the airport fairly fast.
We did all the check-in business and walked through security. Everyone got through without setting off the X-ray machine...except for MJ. He had to walk through two more times, then it was determined that he would need to be searched. The security officer yelled out "male scan, aisle 2, blue shirt!" and we all thought that was funny. A security officer came out with a wand, which was waved over every inch of poor MJ's body. The culprits were as follows: his belt buckle (we all found this weird because the other people in our group who were wearing belts did not set off the alarms, and MJ's belt buckle wasn't oversized or anything), the zipper on his coat, and...the Pringles can he had left in his coat pocket when he walked through the checkpoint. Duh. Watching MJ receive the "male scan" was priceless.
Chicago Midway Airport has been going through a massive renovation project. I would have assumed that they'd make the place suck less, perhaps add some more places to eat near the gates. Right now, after you pass through the security checkpoint, your choices dwindle to old-looking pizza, overpriced chips and candy, and dried out Superpretzels. Nothing worth the money. So we decided to walk back out past the security checkpoint to the little (crappy) food court. MJ said that he would go ahead and brave the security check one more time.
I ate overpriced bad pizza that gave me a stomachache. Everyone's meals were unsatisfying, as a matter of fact.
Post-lunch, I decided to try out one of the Internet kiosks in the airport. I figured I'd try to update from the airport just for the novelty. I put in my dollar and tried to get to Blogger, but the Internet connection wasn't working and I ended up walking away, fuming. Later, the boys tried to email me some photos (one of the kiosks has a webcam), but I never got them. Bleh. Moral: Don't use the Internet kiosks at Midway Airport, they don't work.
We sat, we waited, we boarded the plane.
The flight was bumpy. I forgot my Dramamine and spent much of the flight wishing that I hadn't. Matty was miserable and sat around with his head in his hands looking very upset. MJ was too excited to be bothered by the flight. Aaron was way on the other side of Matty but I assume that he was all right. MJ and I read the Weezer article in the new issue of CMJ and talked about some stuff. I'm glad we were only on that plane for an hour, because I don't know that any of us could have handled much more.
When we reached land again, we were in Minneapolis! We walked through the airport looking for the shuttle to the hotel. Aaron used one of the little courtesy phones to call the hotel, and he had a really confusing exchange with one of the front desk people, who didn't seem to understand the relatively simple questions Aaron was asking. Stuff like "what time does the shuttle pick people up at the airport?" and "when will the next shuttle be arriving?"
We saw a pop machine with owls on it. Someone referred to it as an "owl vending machine." Matty took a picture of me standing in front of it.
We finally found the pick-up point for the airport shuttles. The boys didn't believe me when I said we had to go up the escalator. I went up the escalator, and they waved at me and said "see you later." When I got upstairs, I saw the pick-up point, so I went back down and told them that I was right, ha ha ha, come upstairs. We went outside and it was butt-ass cold.
Our driver had a fantastic Canadian accent. He said "eh" a lot. He asked me about the record in my handbag and I told him that it was "Africa" by Toto. He said "oh, that's one of my favorites!" There was a 12-year old girl in the shuttle with us, and she was wearing headphones and listening to music. Every so often, she would sing out loud, and we would all look at each other and try not to laugh. Her mom (who was sitting on the other side of MJ) finally reached over and tapped her on the shoulder and told her to stop singing. While in the van, I started listing all the states that I've been to. I thought that Minnesota was my 25th state, but it turns out that it's my 26th. (My main geographic deficiencies are in the Deep South, the Pacific Northwest, the Plains, and the Mid-Atlantic states. I've done the Great Lakes thing, I've been all over the Southwest, and I've covered a lot of the Northeast. I'd like to pick up a few more states this year, but I don't know when!) Then MJ started making his list, and I think he ended up at 23 states.
Aaron and Matty took care of the check-in, mostly because we were only supposed to have two people staying in the room. We were lucky to even have a room in the first place, because every hotel was packed to capacity due to the NCAA basketball tournament. Once they got the key cards, we went down to the room, where we all sat down and rested for a minute.. And then...
You'll find out what happens next once I get some reading done! I'll give you some hints: there was a phone call involved, and some walking, and the largest mall in the U.S., and a bus trip. And also a cold Minneapolis wind, a long walk through downtown, the search for First Avenue, and a photo opportunity or two or three. At one point, the following exchange took place:
Me: So what you're saying then is that you're modeling clothes in front of the mirror while you talk to me?
Other Person (whose identity will be revealed soon): Um...yeah. I am.
Me: That's okay. I have a pen in my ear. We're even.
This part of the story will take you through the tantrum I threw on Saturday morning: So yeah, the Soft Boys show. The band finally went onstage at around 9:40 or so, and the crowd yelled and screamed and clapped. A group of people (many of whom are on the Robyn Hitchcock/Soft Boys email list) were tossing balloons with song requests on to the stage. I thought that was kind of a cool idea, and the band seemed to find it funny.
They played for about an hour and forty minutes total, concentrating mostly (and this information is from Aaron and MJ) on material from Underwater Moonlight, which was recently reissued by Matador. Robyn Hitchcock's between-songs talk was as bizarro and surreal as ever, and the band sounded great. None of the material sounded dated or stale, which is a testament to its quality. They played some songs that I actually recognized ("I Wanna Destroy You," of course, along with "Insanely Jealous" and a few others that I know I've heard before) and a lot of other stuff that I'm interested in investigating. MJ kept yelling for some song (I'm not quite which) and he ended up having a brief exchange with the bassist, who told him that he didn't know how to play that song. It was a completely different experience from the Dismemberment Plan show I had seen the night before, but no less fun, interesting, or worthwhile. I think it might have been slightly more enjoyable if I hadn't been so tired, though. Near the end of the set, I started yawning a lot. I hope nobody thought that I was having a bad time--I always worry about stuff like that.
After the show, I made my way to the front of the club to wait for Tim and his friends Colleen and Jordin. They had all come to the show as well, but Tim didn't arrive until just before the Soft Boys went on stage because he had spent his week on a business trip. I stood around for about five minutes, looking through the crowd trying to find him and listening to people argue with the Metro security over things like throwing away their beer cups before they left the club. I know that Metro security can be assholish at times, but it was really weird hearing people in their 30s arguing with security like petulant teenagers just because they were asked to finish their drinks and dispose of the cups/bottles before they left the club.
Once I found Tim, I had to find Matt, MJ, and Aaron again. It wasn't too difficult. I introduced everyone to everyone else, there were hellos and handshakes all around, and there was some talk about what would be happening later. I got my coat out of MJ's car, we made our plans, and we split up temporarily. Colleen and Jordin went home, Aaron went to dinner with some friends from the Robyn Hitchcock email list, MJ and Matty went towards Delilah's to meet up with Dan (who was visiting from New York), and Tim walked me to my car. I dropped my car off at Tim's and then we drove to Delilah's together.
I'm afraid that neither of us was particularly interesting that night--we were both pretty tired--but I really wanted to see Dan because it's been a while. We only stayed at Delilah's for about half an hour because we were both falling asleep on our feet. I had to get up early to catch my flight to Minneapolis, and Tim had to get up early to pack his stuff so he could move, so we decided to call it a night. I felt bad having to leave early, like I was being a big party-pooper, but I needed my sleep.
So we went back to Tim's and proceeded to not go to sleep until around 3 AM. And I had to get up at 8. Which meant that I had another night where I only slept for five hours. The alarm went off, I grunted something about "is it really already 8?" and I got out of bed. Unwillingly. I was a little peeved that the boys (I'll call them that because I'm sick of typing "Matty, MJ, and Aaron" every time I want to refer to them collectively) wanted to leave for the airport at 9 AM when our flight didn't even take off until noonish.
I left Tim's at around ten to nine and tried to stop at the corner gas station to put some gas in my car. I was so tired that I pulled up to the gas pump on the wrong side (I've had this car for almost five years and I haven't done that in forever, but I was really out of it, okay?) and then I managed to get stuck between two SUVs whose occupants had decided to park at the gas station while they ran to Starbucks. It took me ten minutes just to get out of the gas station, and I didn't even end up buying any gas.
Since I was running late, I decided to just double park outside of Matty's building instead of driving around looking for a real parking spot. I ran over to the building, rang the buzzer, and the exchange went something like this:
Person on the other end of intercom (everyone sounds the same over the intercom, I never know who is who): Nanette?
Me: Are you guys ready?
Person: Noooooo...we just got up.
Me: What? I thought you wanted to leave at 9!
Person: No...we thought you were staying here. We wanted to get moving at 9.
Me: Well, I guess I should go park my car, then.
I was fuming because I could have slept an extra couple of hours. But I found a reasonably good parking spot, and a few minutes after I got up there, all was forgiven because we were all goofing around and joking and having a good time as usual.
In the next episode: Breakfast follies! Sweet 'n Crunchy peanuts! Remote parking fun! Shitty airport food! The bumpy flight! Arrival in Minneapolis in one piece! All this...and more...when I update the weblog again!
NOTE: I've changed the way posts display--they're now chronologial from oldest to newest each day. I was kind of worried that this story would get confusing if I kept the display chronological from newest to oldest. Just thought I'd let you know.
Insert bitching about how I just lost the first half of this post because my computer froze: I started writing about Friday night, and I was to the point where the show was about to start, and then IE froze when I was trying to open another site to confirm a link. Bleh. So now I have to start all over again.
I got out of work an hour early on Friday so I could make it into the city early. I knew that Aaron wanted to go into the Metro as soon as the doors opened so he could secure a good spot right in front of the stage, and I didn't want to be the bozo who held the whole process up. Besides, I needed to make it to the bank before it closed so I could get some cash money, and I'm notoriously slow and constantly late. But my plan was thwarted!
I actually made it to the bank earlier than I had expected. I was getting ready to get on the expressway to head towards Metro when I heard the DJ on the radio make some stupid DJ-style joke about the awful traffic on the Dan Ryan. (The Dan Ryan, for non-Chicagoans, is the expressway that I [and many other south suburbanites/south siders] take into downtown Chicago.) I turned on the news radio station to try to get some more information and to figure out if I should go ahead and take one of the few feasible alternate routes.
Well...it turned out that the traffic was incredibly snarled up. A man had barricaded himself in a Coca-Cola van around 1:30 in the afternoon in the middle of the Dan Ryan, so the state police closed down the Dan Ryan in both directions. All the alternate routes were a mess.
The situation ended as I was headed back home, but I decided to just sit it out at home for a while longer. I went ahead and ate some dinner while I was home, and I watched the news to check up on the traffic. Once the travel times were back to normal (it was around 6:15), I went ahead and left.
And yeah, I was the bozo who held everything up, but Matty, Aaron, and MJ didn't seem to mind. Especially after I explained what had happened. We went into Metro without much hassle--well, Aaron faced some hassle, but that's his story to tell--and we secured spots fairly near the stage and about four rows back.
Metro was packed, and the crowd was much more diverse than usual. The crowd was also much older than usual, but that was to be expected--the Soft Boys were together from the late 70s to the early 80s, and I'm assuming that some of the people in the audience were familiar with the band when they first existed or soon after they broke up. I, on the other hand, was much too busy listening to Sesame Street records back then to have paid attention to an extraordinarily influential band coming out of Cambridge, England. It was kind of nice to be on the young end of the audience for a change.
Metro was not only crowded, it was also way too stuffy. Management finally got around to turning the fans on, which was good because I don't think I could have kept my spot up front if they hadn't. The combination of the stuffiness and the crowdedness and my exhaustion from only having had five hours of sleep the previous night was making me feel kind of dizzy.
John Wesley Harding opened. I wasn't aware that he was still recording--I remember his brief burst of fame on MTV's 120 Minutes back in 1989 or 1990--I have a couple of his videos on tape. He's a likeable enough guy, he's got some catchy tunes and a nice stage presence. He told a couple of amusing stories, and he was a lot more upbeat than I had remembered. I probably would have picked up his CD, except that it was $15 and I thought that was a little pricey for a CD being sold at a concert.
The wait between John Wesley Harding's set and the Soft Boys set was a little long. I guess it could be that I was going by the schedules that were posted near the entrance, which said that the Soft Boys would be going on at approximately 9:15. I think they finally went on at 9:30 or 9:40, so we had quite a long, stuffy, crowded wait.
And you're going to have to wait for the rest of the story--it's time for me to go to work now. Hopefully your wait won't be long, stuffy, or crowded, though. If you can't wait, I know that Aaron has posted his review/opinions/story of Thursday night's Detroit Soft Boys show. His perspective is really different from mine, as he's an obsessive Robyn Hitchcock fan and he was familiar with the Soft Boys' recordings and career prior to seeing them live. Me, I just went because I like Robyn Hitchcock and I like the Soft Boys songs that I've heard on compliations and mix tapes/CDs that people have given me through the years. You can also check out the tour diaries at the Soft Boys website.
One more thing before I go: you Radiohead fans sure are sensitive. I can't believe that my offhand comments about that stupid scary ugly Radiohead bear have offended a few of you. Come on. I wasn't trying to insult anyone personally, but some of you have taken it that way, and it's kind of silly. You have to admit that that bear is creepy and sinister!
Five hours of sleep each night for the past three nights--not good: I'm back from Minneapolis and I am so exhausted I can barely sit up straight. I'm about to run out of energy and crash for about twelve hours, but before I do, a few words of thanks/teasers for stuff I'm going to post in the next few days:
Thanks to Matty for sleeping on the floor and snoring. And for paying for the hotel room. I'll get the Yo La Tengo and GBV tickets for you--even exchange, I think.
Thanks to MJ for all the corny jokes that aren't as funny when I type them out. Is it true that you like to make whoopee with the lights on? Cover hog.
Thanks to Brian for the rockin' breakfast and bowling. We'll rematch someday and I will whoop your ass. Oh, and my toe is fine.
In the next couple of days, you'll read all about my adventures in Minneapolis, about the Soft Boys shows, about the Minders/Fuck show, about bowling in Minneapolis, about lack of sleep and what it does to a person's body, about the Mall of America, about Mad Libs, about the pop music preferences of certain Pitchforkmedia.com music news editors (hah!), about bumpy airplane rides, about how much I fucking hate Chicago's Midway Airport, about the new t-shirt design for the Amplified to Rock one-year anniversary espectacularrrrrr...and much, much more. Oh, and there's also the March month in review. My accountants are currently calculating the numerical rating, they should be sending me the sealed envelope with the results early tomorrow afternoon. And there will be pictures. And drawings.
And now...there will be SLEEP.
