Last night I had a blast, y’all. I am broke as a hobo without a hammer, but I had fun. After the week I have had with my glasses and everything, I needed it.
What did I do, you ask? I just went down to New Orleans and saw an awesome band by the name of They Might Be Giants and they were awesome. Just a great show.
To be honest, I was not sure I was gonna get to go after I had to spend most of my money on getting my glasses repaired and did not want to dip into savings. I even tweeted out about it and several of you gave me some great advice. Then, who should tweet me but They Might Be Giants themselves! Then they follow me! (Follow them @tmbg) So, with my heart aflutter and feeling happy I made a vow to get to New Orleans hell or high water.
Bannville is about an hour and change from New Orleans, so I make the drive with little trouble. I park and head right to the House of Blues where I buy a ticket from a rather bored but pleasent lady behind the counter.
For the next hour or so I wander around the French Quarter, dodging the drunks who are in max celebration for early St. Patrick’s Day. I make my normal pilgrimage to Jackson Square and say hello to the ghost of my friend who haunts there. Okay, not a real ghost, but memories of someone who will always be there for me.
Then I go to the Cafe Du Monde and buy coffee and beignets. I walk to the river and sit on a bench, covering myself in powdered sugar and watching the Natchez river boats as it takes off with boat load of passengers.
Then as the darkness falls around the river, I pull out my book and read. From time to time families or lovers or creepy dudes walk by, but none bother me as I make my way through Christopher Moore’s Sacre Bleu. Then it is time for TMBG.
Getting into the venue is no problem. They tear my ticket and I follow the line into the concert room. I walk around a bit and contemplate buying a “Big Ass Beer” for $9 when I see a friendly face from behind the sound booth.
My old boss from my first library job is standing there with his wife. We chat until the concert starts, catching up and so forth. The room fills up and the first band plays. Moon Hooch is there name, a two sax and drummer combo that I dub “hipster techno.” Heavy beat and meandering tone with little to no vocals. They were not bad, but not really my idea of fun.
At about this point a lovely lady who would have my eye all night stood beside me. She wore a black and white print dress, her dark hair back in a ponytail and cats eye glasses that accentuated her cupid's bow lips. I ruined any chance I had about thirty minutes later when I elbowed her while stretching out a cramp, but, still, she was lovely.
Besides the band, another form of entertainment came with the “drunken hat duo.” A man and a woman, who as far as I saw never talked to each other, drunkenly wove their way from the bar to the stage for the entire 2 hour set. At one point, the woman pulled me aside and said, “I heard this song when I was 14. I’m 38 now. This shit is old.” The lovely lady beside me and I agreed and she went on her way.
The show ended at midnight after two hours and two encores. Sadly, the lovely lady left before the first encore and never returned, so I could not declare my undying love for her. Or at least tell her she looked great just in case she had no one to tell her. Eh, shit happens.
I bid my old boss good night and ran the hell to my car in hopes that I was not close to the mega-expensive parking rate. I was not, paid and drove home in good spirits.
A good night was had by all.