Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Concert to close Summer
**WARNING: Gratuitous bitching will ensue**
Yeah. It was supposed to the concert event to close out the Summer (a season I am VERY happy to see end). Well, it started raining the damn day before and didn't stop. And, cold rain, too, the kind of damp cold shyt that is not good for my arthritis.
We decided to go, regardless of the weather, $40 is a lot to choke down. Raingear was dragged out, turtle neck and sweatshirts donned, along with jeans and sneakers. I felt like a kid going to school. Hell, my girlfriend Weezer even wore a yellow slicker! Cute on her, too, but she looked like the Unibomber minus the aviatar sunglasses and facial hair. Abby was bundled in blue. Me?? One of those trashbag looking ponchos--oh yeah, loved that look...
Well, we were stuck parking way the fuck out in the feild on the far side of the fair. We walked through the feild, down the hill and into the fairgrounds. Dozens of other people were wearing trashbag ponchos, so at least I didn't feel like a complete fashion accident on feet. We wondered the lanes of Carnies calling for us to play their games--poor bastards looked pretty dismal sitting there like Mother Nature had handed them their own asses. Needless to say, we ladies were above that, so we moved on. We ended up finding a food vendor who had loaded baked potatoes, so we had some hot, somewhat-wholesome food before walking into the track/venue for the Nickelback/Hoobastank/Chevelle/Hinder concert.
The pisser is, Hinder fucking backed out!! Yeah, the one band we all wanted to see other than Nickelback. I hope that band is making good money somewhere else, because I know they pissed off a lot of Michigan rednecks that night!
The race track looked like a mud pit from Hell, a good damned inch of slippery, sloppy muck sucking at your shoes with every step. Lovely. I don't know if I've ever laid it out here, but I HATE dirt. The entire place was dirt. Ew! We walked from vendor booths at one end of the mudfuckingpit to the other, and Abby finally settled on a Nickelback cap. We slopped our way across the mudfuckingpit to the grandstand seating, such as it was, and we managed to stay dry through Chevelle. Not a bad band, especially for not recognizing anything they played. Well, okay, one or two songs of their songs had a ghost of familiarity.
Then, oh yippee fucking skippee, an usher comes up and tells us we are sitting in assigned seating and that we needed to move. We already knew that. It was just a matter of time before we descended the stairs into Hellmuthafuckingmudpit.
Hoobastank--who choose that name??--was okay, I guess. Not as good as the other band that I didn't know, but hey, it was raining, so what the hell, let's stand through mediocrity while waiting for Nickelback.
FINALLY, Nickelback took the stage. It would have been an awesome moment, seeing as the rain had actually stopped, and the tremors in my thigh had ceased as well. Nope. No way. Not happening. We were accosted with the mating calls of inebriated Squealing ColorGuard Bitches. The moment light swathed Chad Kroeger, the teeny weeny teeny boppers started screeching like bitches in heat. "OMG! He's so fucking hot!" Followed by three rabid magpie others. "OMG!! HE'S SO FUCKING HOT!!" Over and over and over again.
No shit. We all know that he's hot, so does he. He also can't hear a damn thing you're caterwauling in my ear!!! Everything fiber of my being screamed to turn and throttle the Squealers, but last time I checked, infanticide was illeagal. "Shut the fuck up," kept dancing on my lips. I resisted the urge to drive their faces into the quagmire we were all standing in.
Other than that, Nickelback rocked ass. They are one of my favorite bands, and once the flock of Squealers took flight, my girlfriends and I enjoyed the show. They didn't play Follow You Home (my favorite), but every other song was awesome. The best tune of the night, for me, was Savin Me--I love that song--followed closely by Figured You Out.
Oh, and Weezer introduced me to a new tune--big fun!--on the way. Cory Lee's title, The Naughty Song. If you don't have it, and you like that naughty, slink-across-the-floor kind of music, go get it! (My friends out there know my email, so if y'all want it, let me know and I'll email ya the file)
So, in summation, the concert season was awesome, but Summer can get the fuck out. Come on Fall!!