Bringing the Drama

So I have some weird dreams, and don’t always remember them. Last weekend, I had a dream, then woke up right after, and texted myself the details. The dream basically threw together a lot of things from my head the last few weeks, which was odd. First of all, I was at a Minnesota Twins baseball game, standing near the on deck circle behind the owner of the Atlanta Falcons. I think the Twins were playing the Rangers in the Metrodome (the roof was in good shape). During the course of the game, someone hits the ball to the outfield, and it was not a home run, but it went into the stands. I know that the rules say if it’s a ground rule double if the ball bounces into the stands, but whatever the situation was, the ball went into the stands but was still considered in play. The outfield players are yelling for someone to throw the ball back to them, while the guy from the Rangers is running around the bases. However, the people in the section where the ball went started fighting over it. I’m standing there with the Falcons owner watching it all unfold up close on the jumbotron, when the camera falls to the floor. On camera, I see a gold can of High Life rolling underneath the seat, and in the midst of people fighting for the ball, someone sits down and the seat crushes the can of High Life. I remember thinking “people are fighting over the ball, while the other team is scoring because of their fight, and now they’ve wasted a beer.” I also remember laughing hysterically with the Falcons owner about it and then I woke up.

The funny thing is, I now drink PBR over High Life when available.

I first took up golf in high school after a PE class where we were made to chip wiffle balls into a target area. I remember holding the club open (twisted away from me) to hit the balls because I had never played before and doing that seemed to work. I did reasonably well, and figured maybe I should give golf a shot. Fast forward to 2010, and after hurting my shoulder over a year ago, I had not played since the summer of 2008 (I think, it could have been longer). I had missed playing, but after having not played in a while, and not really having anyone to spur me on, I did not really do anything about it.

Then my g/f signs me up for this tournament being sponsored by her school’s athletic booster club. She had talked to me about playing, and I told her I had not played in a while. I told her to sign me up only if they needed players, and I would make it work. She called me a couple of days after that conversation and told me I was signed up.

I was determined not to show up and suck at this tournament. It did not matter if I did not know any of the players, I know how I feel when I’m playing in a best ball tournament and I have a guy on my team that is really terrible. Last weekend after having my family over to my house for Mothers’ Day, I went and hit range balls at the golf course near my house. It was like I had never left. I hit some shots that made me think I did not have that far to go. I also hit some shots that made me think I had some work to do. I was encouraged by the results though, and knew if I practiced more that week, I would at least be able to contribute a little bit.

I went and played nine holes on Wednesday. I had noticed when I went to the course that not many people were playing, so I figured I could sneak on one afternoon and play alone. I like to play alone. Unless I’m playing with someone I know, I’d rather just play by myself. I warmed up on the range and then hit the course. (BTW, some dude was on the range with a driver that sounded like an aluminum bat when he hit the ball. I thought that was stupid. Maybe I’m too old fashioned. If you’re driver head is bigger than your hand, you probably should not be using it.)

After not playing in almost two years, I shot a 46, finishing with the same ball I teed off with. I could not believe it. I finished in near darkness where it was really hard to see, so luckily I was still hitting the ball straight. It felt great to walk the course and play like that. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed playing. The feeling of hitting a monster drive, watching your iron shot go high in the air and come down on the green, getting out of trouble, making a long putt, etc. I felt ready for this tournament.

I showed up yesterday and I was greeted with “You’re our ringer, right?” Uh oh. I quickly found out I was our team’s best player. It was not really a bad thing, but I wish I could have been more consistent with my shots and helped the team more. We shot a 74, which in best ball is not that good, but we did not finish last and we had a good time. It rained off and on, but there was free food and free beer, so it ended up being a good time. I lost twelve balls. TWELVE! I got 6 free though, so really my net loss was nine.

After all of this happening, I’m determined not to let my game lapse like that again. I have said this before, but hopefully this time I will be able to stick with it. People have told me that if I could play more, I could be really good. I’ll have to see about that.

In 2007, a couple of friends and I went to the 1st and 2nd round NCAA games at the Arena. There are four games on Thursday. Two in the afternoon, and then two at night, with a 2 hour break in between. In 2007, we left our car parked near the Arena and wandered down to the Warehouse district where we ate an early dinner. Last Thursday, I thought the same plan would work again. I was with different people this year, but the overall goal would be the same; leave the car parked and walk to the WH district to eat.

After the 2nd game ended on Thursday, we left the Arena and walked down Girod St. I suggested Lucy’s to have the people with me see the place where Drew Brees led people in the pregame chant after the SUPER BOWL VICTORY PARADE. We walked and got to Lucy’s, and got our table. Our service was AWFUL. Our first waitress took our drink orders, then a few minutes later another waitress came and told us she was now going to be our waitress, and needed our drink orders. We basically had 10 minutes of our time wasted by this ridiculous waitress handoff. Why not go put the drink orders in at the bar, THEN hand off? So the new waitress takes our drink orders, then our food orders. A few minutes later, the same waitress comes back and says she lost our order and she needs it again. She had no idea what we had ordered just a few minutes earlier. Then the appetizer we ordered was still not at the table after 20 minutes, to which our waitress said “it’s not an appetizer, it’s a meal.” What? We talked about splitting it as an appetizer, she was there for the conversation. Everything happening caused tensions to run high at the table.

In the midst of this, I spotted who I thought was Mickey Loomis check out the tables in the dining area, then walk back to the bar. I did not get a really good look, so I couldn’t confirm. Then a few minutes later, Sean Payton, some other guys, and then Mickey Loomis walk past our table and sit down at a table in the back of the room. SEAN “I just coached the Saints to a Super Bowl Victory and am completely awesome” PAYTON! I was able to manage a feeble “Hey Coach” as he walked past, but I don’t think he heard me.

Sitting there was one of those moral dilemmas. I did not want to go bother them as they enjoyed their afternoon, but on the other hand, how many times do you get to have your picture taken with someone that awesome? The service disaster ended up having our entire table’s meals and drinks comp’d (first time that has ever happened for me). We learned this right when the actual food arrived, and I could hardly eat. All the waitress drama and we’re also in the room with Loomis and Payton. It may have helped that I had already had a bloody mary.

People were going over to the table with the famous dudes and getting their pictures taken, or saying “thank you” or whatever. I even saw some people bring their baby over. I didn’t see if they got Payton to kiss it or anything. I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to have it happen more natural than that. I didn’t want to disturb them, I mean, they’re just there to drink some beer and talk. We were making plans to leave, but I wanted to finish my High Life before I left. I was kind of delaying leaving, so that maybe by some chance I had an opening to get a picture. If not, I thought I’d cross that bridge when I came to it, which probably meant interrupting them. As I’m staring at my beer having two or three swallows left, I hear Payton tell the other guys at the table he was having to go. I got my camera set, and as he came back by our table, I said “Coach, can I get a quick picture?” He replied “yeah, real quick”. BOOM!

I’ve been told I was blushing, and I probably was. I don’t remember if I shook his hand, or if he knew when I said “thanks” it was for more than the picture. I would have loved to have recounted how I felt when Tracy Porter made the game clinching INT, or how I appreciated him calling for the onsides kick in the SB, or how he let people touch the Lombardi. All I remember is I got my picture taken with Sean Payton, and it was awesome. WHO DAT!

(BTW, I don’t want to make Lucy’s out to be this horribly serviced place, it’s not. We just had some really bad waitresses. That was not my first time eating there, and won’t be my last.)

After Deke and Bobby went back inside to broadcast on the radio, they announced anyone wanting to enter the Best Dressed or Hairy Legs contest, please come to the right of the stage. I had to fight my way over to the right of the stage. It was still ridiculously packed. I got to the stairs and had the lady see me so she’d pick me out of this throng of guys in dresses.
Once I got on stage, everything seemed a little disorganized. There were about 20 other guys on stage with me, but they didn’t really divide us between the two contests. I pulled my socks down so people would see why I should win. They had people go to the front of the stage because I think they were judging by crowd reaction. One of the ladies in charge looked at me and my legs and told me I’d be a finalist. Guys would go to the front of the stage, then step back. Slowly but surely they were eliminated. They hadn’t asked me to go to the front yet, so I thought the hairy legs competition would be coming up. I was going to stay up there until they asked me to leave.

Finally I got motioned to go to the front to show off my wares. I did, and my friends in the crowd had summoned help from people around them to cheer for me. Unfortunately, I did not make the finals of the Best Dressed, but I was still staying up there until they told me to leave. One of the ladies came up to me and told me she had something inside for me, and to stay up there. They announced the winner of Best Dressed, and the lady came up to me again, and said “follow me inside, we’re going to put you on the radio.” I motioned out to my friends about the greatness that was happening.

The lady told me to grab her hand and stay close. It was still crazy packed. We made our way through the crowd, and since I was with the radio lady, I got past the security guard. They had me wait near the table that was being used for the broadcast. I thought they would eventually give us microphones or something, and ask us a couple of questions.

I was going to thank my dad for the hairy legs. Sadly though, I never got the chance. They took my name, and the name of the guy who won Best Dressed, and said them over the air, so that was cool. My parents heard it. When they said my name, I turned and waved to the people in the restaurant. It was all kinds of awesome. The lady gave me a bag full of stuff from one of the local Saints shops. I wanted the plaque that the other guy got, it even had Hairy Legs on it. I think they only got one plaque though, and it did say Best In Show, so he got that.

We left the restaurant and got a picture at the Andrew Jackson statue to add to my collection. Then we made our way to Fleurty Girl, where I met THE Fleurty Girl. She asked to get a picture with me, and then she tweeted it! She’s like a real celebrity with all the local and national interviews from the cease and desist selling WHO DAT shirts thing. (or so I have learned this week) My sister was able to buy a shirt she’s been wanting. Afterward we went and ate at this BBQ place called Squeal where they had the most amazing corn grits I’ve ever had.

I have told this story over and over since Sunday. I keep thinking how incredible it all was. I was expecting a lot of guys to show up and march and all, but the amount that did blew my mind. The amount of people who turned up to watch was just awesome. The crowd was so happy. Everyone was having such a great time. I’m so glad I did it. I can’t wait till Sunday. WHO DAT!

(I divided the story into 2 parts, both parts will be posted today. Part II later this afternoon)

Last week, Bobby Hebert announced that there would actually be a Dress Parade to honor the late Buddy D and celebrate the Saints going to the Super Bowl. Later on in the week, I called my friend Jacob, who’s probably one of the only friends I have on the same level with the Saints. I asked him if he wanted to do the parade. I thought it’d be fun. We agreed. He called me Saturday, and we nailed down more plans and particulars. It was on.

Saturday night, I went to the local Goodwill to get a dress. I went through the entire rack of dresses and found two black dresses. They were pretty much the same style, so I was just going to try them both on and go with the one that fit the best. The tags were ripped off, so I had no idea what size the dresses were. It was obvious one fit better than the other, so I bought it. When I went up to the counter, the lady said “you must be going to a party”, to which I said “no, I’m going to be in the Dress Parade tomorrow.” The people around the counter laughed and encouraged me to have a good time. The dress was $5.43 total, not bad. I stopped off at the store and got a 12 pack of High Life cans, because I knew we’d need beer and I thought we’d get in trouble for having bottles. I was going to use a couple of the reusable shopping bags to split the beer between me and Jacob.

The next morning I went to early church and listened to another boring sermon. On my way home I stopped off at Academy and got some black soccer socks. I got home and threw on my dress. Since it was going to be cold, I put on my long sleeve compression shirt that I wear for running, and some compression shorts. Then I put on a long underwear shirt on and some boxers. I did not want to have to wear a coat or anything, I wanted to show off the dress!

We got downtown about 11:35 or so, and parked across the street from the Holiday Inn. We were having to wait for Jacob, and I had to go to the bathroom, so we walked across the street to the hotel. I walked into the waiting room type area, and walked past three guys who were just wearing long skirts over pants. LOSERS! That’s when I knew I had done the right thing, and the apprehension I was feeling disappeared. They saw me with everything on and I could tell from the look on their faces that they wished they had gone all out like I had. Yeah, I was working it. My sister nicknamed me Sassy Sally.

We walked over to the Dome to meet up with Jacob. There were so many guys out there, and more impressive was the number of people who came to watch.

We walked down the street doing the Who Dat! Chant, chanting Buddy D, Black and Gold Super Bowl, etc. It was amazing. The first block or so I must have said “this is awesome” 20 times. Everyone was laughing and yelling and waving. There were tons of people on both sides of the street taking video and/or pictures. It was crazy. Some of the guys took the dress wearing a little too far IMO. One guy readily admitted he was wearing a thong underneath. One guy took our picture, and then tells me “if you’d have shaved this morning, I’d be turned on”. I told him “I’m glad I didn’t!” The guys in makeup were also kind of weird.

When we made the turn onto Carondelet, there were still tons of people. It was almost as if the amount of people increased. I high fived a girl for wearing a Scott Fujita jersey. This one guy was filming and says “this is going on youtube”, so I got in the camera shot and yelled “What up! Youtube! Who Dat!” I have no idea if it’s actually anywhere yet, but I’m in a video somewhere for sure.

When we got to the Quarter, it almost became single file because of all the people on the sidewalks. These guys in front of us were just walking in jerseys and jeans, and I spoke loudly that they shouldn’t be in the parade. I don’t think they heard me. But really, we’re in dresses and you’re not, get out of our parade! Most importantly, we made it to the stage at the end of the parade and we had not run out of beer. Also, I wasn’t sure exactly where we were going, all I knew was we were following Bobby Hebert.

I knew there was going to be a hairy legs contest, so I didn’t wear stockings. I wanted to be able to enter the contest. The stage was set up in the street, and it was packed. We were in front of the stage, but it was just wall to wall people. I kept yelling for Bobby Hebert to come out, because he was our leader for the day, and I wanted to see him. I had not seen him all day. I booed a guy who was dancing on stage with a Mic Ultra. Finally, Bobby came out, and he appeared to feel very good. He said some pro Saints stuff, about how awesome it was that we all came out, that the Saints were going to the SB, life is awesome, whatever. Deke, his radio co-hort, was also there, but he didn’t have a dress. In fact, he was wearing a Bobby Hebert jersey. I think Deke’s an idiot, and his costume was just stupid. Fine, maybe you’re not man enough to wear a dress, but for crying out loud, do you have to wear the jersey of your radio partner like that? LAME!

(the exciting conclusion in part II)

Because I’ve suffered from severe writers’ block lately but I still want to document the awesome things that happened over the weekend of my triumphant return to Nashville after a 2 year absence, you get the incomplete sentences of the awesome and not so awesome:

- shared plane with inappropriate singer
- lady’s excitement over inappropriate singer
- beer shopping
- trip to recycling collection place
- Dagny!
- well, now don’t you feel horrible for parking where kids in wheelchairs are coming out?
- 2 for 1 High Life
- seeing friends from across the room in the Ryman, feeling like a rock star
- realizing God still chases after me, no matter how unintentionally I seem to run from Him
- sleeping late
- ridiculous federal job app
- meeting blog friend Mandy
- making it to Fido for the first time ever
- Miles!
- Jack White’s house!
- eating sushi for the 2nd time ever
- interesting shop talk
- Hank/Hank Jr mugs
- Jack White’s record studio/shop was closed
- picture of me with Andrew Jackson statue
- Grimey’s with drunk Santa and ‘drunk’ elf
- Saints/Cowboys!
- “chicken/taco/really good whatever it is officially called” soup
- Missed FG! Craziness!
- Saints sadness
- awesome sermon at church
- leading the youth group boys to a gift wrapping championship
- blue coast burrito
- 5 NFL games at once
- free airport wifi
- home

Today I went against karma and challenged fate. I went over to watch the Saints game at a friend’s house. I have watched every regular season game except the Giants game by myself for one reason or another. I was invited over after plans to hang out Friday fell through, and I made the fate challenging clear when the plans were reconfigured for today. Jacob agreed that we were flying in the face of superstition.

Yesterday I had gotten a text from his wife about today that I didn’t know I had until my phone had hit the floor. It had vibrated itself right off the counter in the kitchen. When I went to reply, I realized buttons were not working. When the damage was fully realized, the 3, 7, and 9 were out of commission. I had to make phone calls instead of texting. OMG! Then after my 2nd phone call, magically everything was back to normal. AMAZING PHONE LIVES ON!

So back to the game, I wore my Fujita jersey and brought over some left over High Life from Halloween. The camo cans are hard to pass up. We watched the game together and everything went fine. The Saints are 10-0 for the first time in their history. Things are looking good to watch games together later in the season. It’s a good thing the challenging of fate was when they were playing the 1-8 Bucs and not next week against the Patriots. Next week I’ll be watching alone, just like I watched the last MNF game.

Incidentally, the games I’ve worn my Fujita jersey for earlier in the season where I’d watch by myself, I felt like I was in an NFL commercial. Who wears a jersey at their house when they’re watching a game by themselves? Apparently me.

So last night I met up with my mom to go to the Hornets game, and then right after that, Jacob to go see Pete Yorn. I ended up being able to go as Jacob’s +1 (ie FREE) since our other friend Jacob had to bail. After the game, which the Hornets WON, I made my way down to Republic. I hadn’t been there since seeing Death Cab 3 years ago. I was able to find a parking spot a block away, it was a snap. I walked up about 9:45 and didn’t see Jacob. I did see the tour bus and stood on the sidewalk with the smokers. Some people really should look in the mirror when they smoke to make sure they don’t look completely awkward. This one guy looked very awkward with a cig in his mouth. Not only is he slowly killing himself but he looks like a dumbass doing it.

As I was standing there waiting for Jacob, Pete Yorn got off his tour bus and was talking to a couple of people. I texted Jacob to coax him to hurry up, and luckily we met up a few minutes before PY started. We obviously had missed the opener, who happened to be GIVING AWAY his EP at the merch table. If you’re giving away your EP, it probably sucks. The fact that they were being given away played a factor later in the evening.

The way Republic is set up now, is they have couches near the back, about ¾ of the way back between the stage and the merch table area. People had been sitting in them, so when the show started they stood up. Of course people stood up right in front of where we were standing, so we booed them. One of the guys turned around and Jacob then noticed the guy’s friend had an Iggy Pop shirt, and said we were just kidding, which we were, for the most part. The dude in the Iggy Pop shirt apparently is dating a rather tall girl, so of course she came over to stand with him. Then they started dancing and making out, which was weird. They were standing in front of the couches though, so it wasn’t a big deal view wise. PY must have this crazy dancing/PDA vibe, because there were a few people doing this. Later on in the show all of those people were standing in front of the couch, with Jacob and I standing behind it. During a song a few minutes later, the guy in the black shirt who had turned around, reaches over to his friend in the IP shirt, who is dancing with his chick, and tickles his underarm. Jacob and I looked at each other and telepathically exclaimed WTF? We laughed at what had just happened. I would never tickle a male friend’s underarm and don’t understand the logic behind doing it in a public setting.

We weren’t really paying attention to the songs that were not on musicforthemorningafter, so when PY was playing a new song, we went in search for High Life. There were plenty of people drinking it, and as connoisseurs of the HL, we figured there must be a special. There was a special, it was $2, but when we went to the bar they were out! OUT OF HIGH LIFE! I wanted to give the bartender $3 for a HL and they were out. It was a complete travesty, esp when we were offered Bud Light instead for $4 (not including tip). We declined and went back to standing behind the couch. Then I realized that the other bar on the other side of the room may still have HL. We walked over, because PY was playing another new song, and the other bar did have HL. We toasted on our way back to our spot. The night was going so well!

Upon returning to our spot, some idiot decided he wanted to get a better view of the stage, so he’s standing on the back of the couch, above everyone. I think he was intrigued with the drummer doing something in front of the drum kit. Problem was, he kept standing on the back of the couch and blocking our view. We yelled at him to get off, but he probably didn’t hear us. The next thing I know one of the opener’s free EP’s hits the dude in the back, causing him to turn around, and get off the couch. He looked around as if he didn’t know who threw it, and seemed to ask his friend “what just hit me?” Jacob and I laughed as we judged them, and clinked our bottles of High Life.

The show itself was alright, but like the time I saw PY in 2003, it just wasn’t GREAT. I mean, he comes out and plays his songs, but they’re not that much different than the album really, and he doesn’t talk a lot. The band was good though, and there was a guy whose job it was to only play tambourine. He had a majestic beard, and we both thought he reminded us of David Bazan. When the band came out for the encore, I yelled for Burrito. It got a reaction from some of the people in the crowd, and a group behind me got really excited, but they didn’t yell Burrito too. I yelled it again but then PY started Crystal Village or something. It’s a fine song, but not Burrito. PY did play my favorite song, On Your Side, and played seven songs off musicforthemorningafter, which was fine by Jacob and I.

At the end of the night, we got a picture with the DB look-a-like. I’ll post the picture when I get it emailed to me. We stayed around to try to get a picture with Pete Yorn, but after 15 or 20 minutes, it didn’t seem worth it anymore with it being almost midnight on a Tuesday, so we left. I got home about 12:35. It was surely a late night, but a great night. Word.

Two weeks ago I went to two concerts in one night. Why would I do this? First of all, Andrew Bird scheduled a show at Tipitina’s for October 3rd. I have been hearing about how great AB is live for a couple of years, so when he scheduled a show in NOLA I bought tickets. Also part of the AB madness, his show last year sold out, so going to his show was almost to the quest realm. (quest realm = doing something no matter the cost, like driving to Houston to see Coldplay and paying $72 for a ticket) A couple of weeks after the AB show was scheduled, The Dead Weather scheduled a show at the HOB. There had actually been a listing for a DW show over the summer, but it got changed to ‘canceled’ soon after. I was stoked about the DW show, but when I realized the date was the same night as AB, I didn’t think it would work. The tragedy of it all!

Later in the week after the DW show was announced, I was looking at the Tipitina’s website and noticed the AB show was scheduled to start at 10. HOB shows usually start at 8 and are done by 11, so if there was an opener, then I figured I could theoretically hit both shows. This idea was strengthened when an opener was listed for AB. With an opener at Tipitina’s, AB probably wouldn’t come on till at least 11, probably closer to 11:30. It was on. If I had known the phrase I would have said WATCH THIS HAPPEN!

The night of the shows, I wasn’t really keyed up for either. The adventure was more interesting. I had gotten the DW album over the summer and liked it, but by October I had moved on to things like new David Crowder. When we got to the HOB, I realized while I was waiting that I was really excited to see Jack White in person. I mean REALLY EXCITED. I couldn’t wait to actually see him on stage. The opener was decent, but nothing memorable. When DW came out, I couldn’t stop smiling. There was Jack White! I was there! I definitely was not the only one amped up for JW. I had worn my glasses that night and realized very quickly that a lot of people had similar glasses. It was music elitist night at the HOB. DW plowed through most of the songs on their album except a couple that I didn’t care about. They also did a couple of covers including one called “You Just Can’t Win” with you know who singing. It was fabulous. It was so great that I went up and bought the 45 with that cover as a B-side after the show was over. The sound was incredible and the show had a driving intensity, even the bluesy songs. I definitely don’t think DW can be a long term project because the chick lead singer can’t possibly sing that way forever. She was killing her voice, and I’m sure the cigarettes weren’t helping either. The last two songs they did were New Pony and Treat Me Like Your Mother. Both were incendiary! I checked my phone for the time and it was around 10:45, so we were going to make it to AB.

Getting to AB was pretty easy, although nerve wracking because we seemed to get behind slow drivers and catch EVERY red light. My sister was texting me though and had told me the opener finished while we were driving, so that calmed me down a little. We parked and met up with my sister and another friend. High Life in a bottle was $2. At the HOB, they sell it for $4 in a can. Tipitina’s Win. We had made it with plenty of time to spare, and AB came on about 10 minutes after we got there. It wasn’t nearly as insane as Wilco crowd wise, so we were able to relax near the back by the bar and still be able to see. I was amazed at AB’s whistling. Seriously, I remember standing there with my mouth open just staring. He played so many instruments, and he had a double gramophone thing behind the band that would spin at what seemed random times. It was great! Of course, it was a lot more mellow than DW, and it was cool to wind down with good friends, more space, and $2 High Life. I bought AB’s latest album on vinyl on the way out, but probably should have gotten Armchair Apocrypha. Oh well, next time.

I got home about 2 am. Things worked out just as I had planned and everyone involved had a great time at the shows. That’s another thing, I was nervous because I was going with people who weren’t necessarily familiar with DW or AB, namely my sister who usually just goes to shows of well known names. The past year though she’s actually gone to see Ten Out of Tenn and really dug it, so there is hope for her! Everything worked out well and the night ended up being a landmark evening. Also, I ended up with New Pony stuck in my head for three days after.

Sunday night I went to go see William Fitzsimmons headline his first show in NOLA. I had seen him open for Brooke Fraser last year, and apparently I learned during the show that I have attended all of his NOLA performances ever. I gave myself a pat on the back for that one. When we got there the room was sparsely populated, pretty much like when I went for Ten Out Of Tenn. I counted the people during the opening act and there were probably 50 people there, but I think by the time WF came on, there were a few more. The opening act was Jenny Owen Youngs, and she was pretty good. She seemed like a female version of WF, with the sad songs and the witty sarcastic banter, so I figure the tour was a perfect match. There was some hip hop act playing the main room, which led to some awkwardness. Obviously since it’s all one building, there are doors going from the main room to the Parish room that only the workers have access to. During one of JOY’s songs, a quiet song, where she’s repeating “WTF was I thinking?” for the chorus, one of the HOB workers opened the door, but one of the other doors to the passageway was not closed, so the music from downstairs was drowning her out. This happened a couple of times in a few minutes, which made JOY stop mid song to go “ok, seriously, what is going on?” (I thought she should have asked “WTF was that?” but she didn’t) The mid song pause brought laughter from the crowd, and she only paused for a split second. After that the passageway coming and going was much quieter.

WF came out and like JOY, it was just him and a guitar. He sat on a stool and played his depressing songs about lost love and death. Mixed in between were the sarcastic comments about how he used to be a psychoanalyst and his goal of the show was to have everyone leave more depressed than when they came in. Most people in the crowd realized he was joking, so he garnered quite a few laughs between songs. The funniest quote I thought was when he was tuning his guitar, and it wasn’t quite tuning right, so he says “come on universe, help me out”. I thought to myself I’m going to have to use that line.

Embarrassingly, I had a fit of laughter I couldn’t control. I don’t even think now it was that funny. I was drinking High Life out of a can (EVERYTHING but Abita is in a can, and HL is the cheapest) and had finished my beer. I’m standing there and thought “you know, if I didn’t care, I’d just put this can on the ground and crush it with my foot…during the show.” When WF was singing, it was really quiet, so thinking about doing this made me start laughing. I have seen people this inconsiderate, but thankfully I am not one.

Speaking of weird stuff, there were quite a few oddities in the crowd. There were a few guys in pairs. I guess there’s nothing wrong with two guys going to a show, but WF? Then there were the hippies with the bubbles. There were three people up close to the stage who were blowing bubbles during the songs. It was extremely weird. One of the guys was barefoot and danced, and also looked like “GPAC” John Lennon without the glasses. His friend in the plaid shirt was blowing bubbles up in front of JOY, and then later in front of WF. I didn’t really understand it.

After the show, I was waiting for my date to emerge from the girls’ restroom, when this guy came up and asked me what cd I had bought. I told him it was the newest one, so then he says “you should get him to autograph it” and motions over at the merch table. I look over and sure enough WF is standing there greeting fans. So before we leave, I got a picture with WF. I was going to type about the exchange but I’ll provide a transcript from memory (for a full on awesome interview, check out my friend Carla’s):

Me: “so I saw you here last year opening up for Brooke Fraser. I thought you were way better, don’t tell BF though”
WF: “I won’t, wait, maybe I will”
Me: “One of my Nashville friends asked me about your show up at Grimey’s later this week. I told her she should definitely go”
WF: “Oh yeah, that’s cool. Yeah, we’re going to be up there for a couple of days. Thanks for doing that!”
Me: “no problem. So can we get a picture? Your beard is awesome”
WF: “Aw thanks, but you know, I kind of miss this” (pointing at my scruffy face)
Me: “Nah man, I just saw ZZ Top, and if you want to keep the beard, it won’t hurt your musical career”
WF: “haha”

(picture)

Me: “Thanks for the picture. Good luck with the rest of the tour”
WF: “Thanks so much for coming”