Saturday, December 08, 2007

Rock Is Not Punctual

Irene's was fun, and it felt like a bit of a local musicians' reunion. Convenient.

You know who else came? My parents. They came an hour early, and the show started over an hour late. I told them that showing up early to a rock and roll show is a bad idea, because rock is not punctual. My dad isn't a logical guy though, and he is always, always early. They said they were hoping to surprise me. Cute. My parents are awesome.


I've realized that if you actually want to hear/see the music you've paid for, Irene's is not always the place to go. When people talk in that room, the sound bounces against the walls and gets magnified. And when there are no more chairs, people stand right in the middle of the room. It only takes about three people standing to block the view for everyone there. So I couldn't see Brian, but I knew he sounded good. At least, I knew he was singing well, from what I could hear in between the conversations that were taking place around me. Maybe I just wanted the music to be louder. Or I wanted to be taller. Story of my life.


I heard Brian call my name at one point, so I jumped on stage. Dave Gaudet handed me a bottle of Aspirin, and said "Here! You can play the pill bottle!" I used it as a shaker and we made our way through the song. I sang backup, but frankly, I couldn't hear a damn thing and I was probably waaaaay off base. Whatever. It was a good time. I didn't wear my cowboy boots though, because my left foot is getting numb again. Fucker! I will take my foot back to my chiropractor. Can you refund a foot?

Has anyone taken a good look at the tables at Irene's? They are something else.


I wonder how old they are. They remind me of the bunks at my old camp. When I was a kid at camp, I liked to look at the graffiti on the ceilings to see how far back the dates went. Maybe that's when I got hooked on history. The thought of so many other kids passing through those buildings was really, really cool to me. Sometimes when I wandered through the woods, I would find old club houses that had been built years ago. It's anyone's guess how old those things were, but it was always neat to see them. Ah, camp.

Oh dear. I have started talking about camp. This could become the post that never ends. I will cut it off before I really start to reminisce. Enjoy your weekends!

2 comments:

zoom said...

I think the tables at Irene's are about 22 years old. I remember when they were brand new! The whole history of Irene's is etched into them now.

Andrea... said...

Zoom.... 22 years! That sounds about right. I'd like to do a giant crayon rubbing over one of them. Instant art.