Post Full o' Squees: The Jason Mraz Troubadour Concert
Before I start rambling, I feel obligated to preface this in order to properly capture the enormity of the situation. Jason Mraz is one of the most awesome singer/songwriters/people. Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk are my two favorites from Firefly and Serenity and, coincidentally, are made of awesome. Put them all in the same room, and my head will quite possibly explode.
Just a forewarning, that cut down there is hiding an unapologetically epic account of the Mraz concert at the Troubadour in West Hollywood last Sunday, April 6th. It’s mostly for my benefit, really. My memory is terrible. None of these details are going to exist in about a week. Still, to the brave souls who click that (totally not dial-up friendly) cut, I hope you enjoy the pretty. Watch the videos at least. Mraz is worth it.
[Note: Most photos and all videos were taken by my sister. It was, however, my camera, so I get partial credit. *nods*]
General seating is a concert issue that usually raises two questions in considering how early to get to the show: 1) How close do you really want to be to the stage? and 2) What percentage of your fellow concertgoers would be crazy enough to line up that early?
My preliminary answers to those questions were 1) Pretty damn close and 2) For Jason Mraz? Like, 80%.
Unfortunately, I caught a wicked cold in the days leading up to the concert, so camping out for hours suddenly didn’t seem like a viable idea. Plus, I woke up on Sunday morning to discover that my voice was pretty much gone. None of that fun cheering and singing along for me, it seemed.
My sister, the caring soul that she is, said that we didn’t have to go that early if I wasn’t feeling well and that we didn’t have to go at all if I wasn’t feeling up to it. That latter offer had to be total bullcrap because there was no way we were going to miss Mraz, but I appreciated the sentiment all the same.
Excitement overruled any cold-induced feelings of crappiness. We arrived at the Troubadour in West Hollywood (WeHo! *snicker*) at around 5 PM, 2 hours before doors opened and 3 hours before the show. There was a slight issue with parking. Essentially, the issue was that we had no idea where to park. We circled the block three times, giving us an opportunity to see the area and Mraz’s tour bus, which was parked out in front. Serendipity was on our side and found us a pretty fantastic parking spot on a side street not one block from the Troubadour.
The line itself for the show wound around the building but was far shorter than I expected. I couldn’t help but notice that there were a lot of Asian kids in line. No, none of my usual sarcastic racist jokes here. I’m just making an observation. Wait! I got one: there were so many Asians, I thought there was a boba place nearby that closed early. Badum-bum! …No? Too obvious?
Anyhoo, a few minutes after joining the end of the line, I left my sister to her own devices to go around the corner of the building towards the front entrance to look for the Will Call booth and possibly a restroom. The front doors were open with a handful of people loitering around. At the same time I got to the entrance, there was another girl who was stopped by a guard from going inside. She asked him if she could use the restroom. He let her in, and I made a mental note that I could go in there if my bladder threatened to explode.
I asked the guard where the Will Call booth was so I could retrieve my tickets. I think he started to answer me, but right at that very moment, a familiar-looking guy in a gray t-shirt, linen pants, and a knit beanie came out and greeted some guys who were standing around the entrance. It took me a second before I realized that OMG that guy was Jason Mraz.
By the time I registered that the guard was telling me that the line I was in was also the Will Call line, I was too shocked and hopped up on DayQuil to do anything rational, so what did I do? I numbly thanked the guard for the info and straight up walked away from Jason Mraz without acknowledging him at all. Hold on to the rotten tomatoes, guys. I’m kicking myself enough as it is.
Still, some part of my brain was lucid enough to realize what just happened, and I couldn’t help my smile as I went back to my sister in line. Before I could say anything to her, she sort of grumbled, “Yes, I know Jason Mraz was there. I heard.” Momentarily, I marveled how word traveled faster down the line than I did.
In something of a daze, I added, “I was standing, like, a foot away from him.” From the look on my sister’s face, she was doing everything in her power to not slap me right then and there. She asked me why I didn’t jump him or knock him out and bring him to her. I answered, “I’m sick. I wasn’t thinking straight. Leave me alone.” Amusingly, the girl in front of us asked me what he was wearing. I told my sister that I was aware that I was totally giving her a non-reaction about seeing Mraz and that if our positions were reversed and she saw someone I adored, I’d probably kill her, too.
The next couple of hours in line were kind of a blur. Mostly, I was feeling like crap. I think my sister was on the phone. I killed time by watching ‘shippy moments from Doctor Who on my iPod.
A little past 7, we were let into the Troubadour. To the left of the entrance was small bar area where the merchandise table and a tiny bathroom were (“That bathroom’s kind of grody. I think I caught an STD from it.”). The main room itself was fairly small: a stage, bar, and second level in a room that fit maybe 200 people.
Surprisingly, there weren’t too many people in front of the stage when we came in. My sister and I staked out spots on the left side of the stage in front of Toca Rivera’s bongo drums near the entrance. The only things separating us from the stage were a group of loud Mraz fangirls who were slowly getting drunk. My favorite one was the one in red who stood directly in front of me and kept her arms over her head during most of the show, effectively blocking my view. I retaliated by glaring at the back of her head and wishing ill thoughts upon her.
The show itself began with Justin Kredible (get it? Just-in-credible?!), the MC/magician for the night, doing some tricks that, honestly, weren’t all that memorable. He was cute and funny, though, so I liked him. He introduced the opening band, the Makepeace Brothers, who did some fun, folky music. Again, not totally memorable, but they were a little overshadowed by the excitement of Mraz waiting in the wings.
The Makepeace Brothers being all cute with their guitars and…box. Later, we realized the bandaid under the eye of the one on the left was actually just a piece of tape. …Which…what…?
For their last song, they called everyone on stage for a fun group sing-along.
Mraz at Toca’s bongos, rockin’ the tambourine and using the bongos as a handy side table. (Side note: Oh! I took this one! I remember because I was all, “OMG, I DIDN’T THINK HE WOULD STAND AT THE DRUMS!” Not the most interesting thought, I know. I’m going for realism here, people.)
Between bands, Justin Kredible came out and had the Makepeace Brothers aid him in a table levitation trick…
…and then did a balloon animal/sword swallowing trick in which he swallowed the entire balloon like a sword. Trust me, it’s more impressive than I’m making it sound. Before he shoved the balloon down his throat, Justin joked, “Don’t get any ideas, guys.” Ha! The guy was adorable.
At some point around here, my sister asked the girl in front of her if she could stand in front of her because she was short. The girl generously agreed, and I only saw my sister about once or twice again during the remainder of the concert.
Bushwalla, the next artist/band/singing guy. I guess you can describe his stuff as odd, jokey, pop-rock. Whatever it was, he put on a great show
Toca Rivera, Mraz’s bongo player and backup singer, all-around nice guy. During the show, he kept high-fiving and shaking the hands of the group in front of me
During Bushwalla’s set, I noticed that a lot of the band members had faux facial hair in the form of electrical tape on their faces. I figured it was a fun in-joke until…
…this guy named Johnny Wishbone came out to play keyboard.
It took me a full minute to realize that this “Johnny Wishbone” was Jason Mraz. In my defense, I was standing behind a microphone stand and couldn’t really see his face
But if there was any doubt as to who this guy was, it was all dashed as soon as he started singing. There’s no mistaking that glorious, glorious voice of his
I love these guys-and, really, everyone else in the band, too. They put on such a fun show
Rawr. As Johnny Wishbone said about his guns, “These pythons are deadly.”
Mraz’s set list. It’s pretty readable if you squint, methinks
To kill time between Bushwalla and Mraz’s sets, I started looking up at the second level and the staircase leading up to it behind me. It was dark, but a familiar male figure coming down the stairs caught my eye. The proverbial light bulb went off above my head. That guy looked like Nathan Fillion. Squinting, I tried to see beyond the darkness and the dozen or so people behind me at the guy who was now at the back of the room. I frantically got my sister’s attention and squealed something to the effect of, “Holy crap, I think that’s Nathan Fillion back there!”
My sister, who is also in love with the awesomeness that is Nathan Fillion, got in on the neck-craning action until she spotted someone walking towards the bar. By the time she confirmed that it was probably him, he was gone. Immediately, I texted Abie “Holy shit, I’m 95% sure I saw Nathan Fillion at this Jason Mraz concert!” She replied with excitement and the obvious question of “Why is he at a Mraz concert?” I texted that I didn’t know, but I was going to hunt down whoever that guy was to see if it was Nathan Fillion or not. More covertly frantic crowd searching ensued but to no avail.
Justin Kredible killing time before Mraz. This picture does not do justice as to how cute this guy actually is
Following a trick involving a banana, Mraz came out eating a banana that my sister and I would revisit later
Cue the screaming fans, which I totally would’ve been a part of if I could actually scream that day.
In any case, OMG, we were so close to the stage. I stood about two feet from the right side of the stage, right in front of Toca. Only the annoyingly drunk girls stood between me and the stage. I was even close enough to take a picture of Toca’s gnome
That? Has got to be the coolest gnome in existence
Half a song in, and I think this is the point where I forgot to breathe
During the first song, the brass section started playing out of nowhere. Turns out that they were on the second level just above my head.
So we don’t forget what venue we’re in
Artsy shot!
My sister gets her knack for awesome framing from me. And possibly yearbook. But mostly me.
*sigh* A guy with a guitar and a beautiful voice. Can the man be any hotter? I think not.
And because there is no way that I can even begin to describe how amazing Mraz’s voice is live, I bring videos!
“If It Kills Me”: This is one that will be on the next album. This song makes me all swoony. His voice in this one kills me (no pun intended). [3:15]
“Beautiful Mess”: Another new one from his next album. Gah. Could you just melt?! [2:04]
Awesome song whose name escapes me: Mraz showing off his mad lyrical skillz [1:52]
“Make It Mine”: This is just a fun song. [1:48]
Mraz and the sax player/Birthday Boy of the evening
The finale of the night was when everyone came out onstage…
…until, suddenly, everyone froze like the end of one of those 80s sitcoms. Justin Kredible came onstage with an adorable girl, who heretofore shall be named The Luckiest Audience Member Ever, to introduce everybody on stage by way of taking the girl’s picture with each individual as he introduced them. Honestly, I was impressed with the creativity of the intros
Frozen!Makepeace Brothers
Luckiest Audience Member Ever and Frozen!Toca
Frozen!Bushwalla and FrozenGangsta!Mraz
Justin Kredible to Luckiest Audience Member Ever: “This is your chance to get to second base with Jason Mraz.” Lucky ass.
The last song was an acoustic-turned-sing-along version of “You and I Both,” which is one of my favorite Mraz songs. And as he stood there a mere ten feet from me with his acoustic guitar, singing that gorgeous song with that perfect voice of his, I swear I could’ve passed out from happiness right then. At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, it was quite possibly one of the best moments of my life.
Aside from the girl in red in front of me and her drunk friends who kept banging on Toca’s bongos, the show was mothereffing amazing. (There were moments when she put her arms down, and for a good chunk of the concert, I managed to shift to her left so she wasn’t blocking me at all. And when she was blocking me, I coughed on her. A lot. Because I’m twelve-years-old, apparently.)
Mraz is one of those artists who is far better live. The recorded albums do no justice to his voice and energy. The whole show was just a big ball of OMGWTFAMAZING.
Anyhoo, the show ended, everyone started scattering, and the hunt for Nathan Fillion was back on. What happened next completely slips my mind. The next thing I remember, I turned towards the entrance to find a guy who looked an awful lot like Nathan Fillion. When he started to walk away from two girls who looked about as starstruck as I felt, my sister an I flagged him down and asked to take a picture with him.
At this point, I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing. Palms were getting sweaty; my jaw was probably hanging open; my voice was gone as it was, so I probably sounded even more like a dork than usual. I was a mess. As if I wasn’t freaking out enough as it was, when he happily agreed to take a picture, he took the camera from my hand and said, “I’ll do it.”
Somehow, I took that cue to squish myself against him for a picture. Yeah, because I needed an excuse to touch Nathan Fillion. My sister tried to squeeze in next to me for the picture, but he kind of pulled back and said something along the lines of “No, her first. I’ll take one with you next.” The man likes taking those self-portraits, apparently.
OMG, that is Nathan Fillion. And me. THAT IS NATHAN FILLION AND ME. THAT IS NATHAN FILLION AND ME IN THE SAME PHOTO. AND I AM TOUCHING HIM (not in that way; get your minds out of the gutter). AND THAT’S RIGHT, HE HAS HIS ARM AROUND ME. AND HE IS HOLDING MY CAMERA, WHICH I WILL NOW HAVE TO PUT ON DISPLAY AS THE CAMERA THAT NATHAN FILLION TOUCHED.
And you bet your gorram ass that if I didn’t have a cold, I totally would’ve sniffed him to find out if he smelled as good as he seems like he would. What? Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same. Also, for the record, his hair is as soft as it looks. I felt it on my face while we took the picture. [insert swooning here]
No, I don’t care that he totally has crazy, half-drunken eyes in that picture. It’s Nathan Fillion; therefore, it is one of my favorite pictures in the history of photography.
I wanted to post my sister’s picture with him, too, but she wouldn’t let me. Personally, I loved the picture because she had crazy eyes in it. That is also the precise reason why she won’t let me post it.
And then my sister-God bless her ‘cause I didn’t think I could untwist my brain to say anything right then-asked him for a hug. Again, he graciously agreed and put an arm around both of us for a hug. I may have died right then. I’m not sure.
Before he left, I realized that I should say something. Turns out that “something” was me dorking out by babbling, “I loved you in Firefly, and Serenity, and Waitress! …and Desperate Housewives, I guess.” My sister deadpanned, “I love you always.” And with a smile and a little wave, he was gone.
Literally shaking with excitement, I quickly reviewed the pictures in my camera to make sure his photography wasn’t shoddy. A very excited text message was sent to Abie that I hugged Nathan Fillion. She returned that I couldn’t bathe until she hugged me in order to get some of the residual Fillion-ness.
While we loitered around, waiting for Mraz to come out of the green room, my sister searched the stage for something to take. I pointed out the browning, half-eaten banana Mraz was munching on earlier that was now sitting on the stage. Half-jokingly, I suggested she take it, if only for the DNA sample. And what do you know-she actually took it. Yep. That’s my sister, alright.
When Toca came out, my sister asked to take a picture with him. He graciously agreed and asked her name. There was some small talk about his gnome and how great the show was. I was really impressed by Toca. He was very pleasant and seemed genuinely interested in what we were saying. Before we left him, I think my sister asked him, too, for a hug (the girl is all about hugs), which he also graciously agreed to.
Realizing that Mraz probably wasn’t going to come out any time soon, we decided to oogle the pretty Makepeace Brothers at the bar/merchandise area. As soon as the bar came into view, my sister very casually said, “And look, there’s Nathan.” Sure enough, there was Nathan Fillion and a couple of people getting hammered at the bar. I realized the back of one of Nathan Fillion’s cohorts looked very familiar. My suspicions were confirmed when the red-haired main turned slightly.
And this is where I couldn’t reel in the inner fangirl anymore. I straight out started flailing. Hands were waving frantically. I was bouncing on the balls of my feet. My words stopped making sense. Nearly punching my sister to get her attention, I squealed, “Holy shit, that’s Alan Tudyk!”
At this moment, I started brainstorming ideas of what I could possibly do for Abie. Have them take a picture in which they pretend to have an arm around an invisible person so I could Photoshop her in later? Call Abie and have them leave a drunken message for her (because they were so getting hammered at the bar)?
My thoughts were interrupted by two women who caught us trying to get Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk’s attention. They asked where Nathan Fillion was from, and my sister and I started listing what we remembered of his résumé. At some point, a stout woman in a pink tie-dyed shirt joined in the conversation. I asked if she was a Firefly fan. This was apparently a trigger for her to excitedly ramble on that she’d been trying to meet these guys for ages and that she even bought tickets for a Firefly convention that got cancelled.
My sister and I exchanged an “ooooh-kaaaay…” look and finally got Alan Tudyk’s attention to ask him for a picture. (I kept kind of tapping him on the shoulder and saying his first name because we were obviously on a first-name basis.)
I didn’t expect him to look so…goofy. Still, I adore him all the same. At least he was looking at the camera in my picture. In my sister’s, he was looking away because, funnily enough, he decided to help Tie-Dye Crazy list the movies and TV shows he was in.
Again, I dorked out and told him I loved him in Firefly and that I cried when he died in Serenity. Suddenly, Tie-Dye Crazy jumped in about how she cried, too, and was so upset and blah, blah, blah, crazycakes. I don’t remember what else she said because I started to slowly back away to let the guys get back to their getting wasted at the bar.
As others came in to take pictures with them, I gathered that Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk aren’t necessarily Mraz fans, but the latter is friends with the Birthday Boy Saxophone Player Dude from the band (who was then also drinking with them), so they spent the show drinking at the bar. Mystery solved!
Also, cute side note: a woman asked Nathan Fillion, Alan Tudyk, and Birthday Boy Saxophone Player Dude to take a sexy picture. They all tried to do the Blue Steel look (unfortunately, my camera’s delay took too damn long, so I didn’t get a copy of it), but Alan faltered and said that his look disintegrated to a “Red Rust.” Aww, Alan.
My sister and I loitered around Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk for a few more minutes before deciding to join the short merchandise line to meet Bushwalla and the Makepeace Brothers. Although, to be honest, there was no line needed for the latter. They ended up spending the rest of the evening wandering amongst the people waiting for Mraz, looking as though they were really hoping someone would ask them to sign something or take a picture.
It was a very casual atmosphere. The show was pretty small to begin with, so even less people were left afterwards. The few remaining fans mingled pretty freely among the artists-with the exception of Mraz himself. He decided to hole himself up in the main room with a few friends. It was actually a little surreal that we were that close to Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk for so long without doing so much as taking our pictures and leaving them be.
I took this because my sister told me to. I also ended up looking like the crazy girl who took a random picture because he was all “Oooookay…” In my defense, I just wanted a picture of him; I didn’t necessarily want a picture with him.
I convinced my sister to throw away the banana that was stinking up her bag. My mom would’ve killed me if she knew it was my idea to take home a rotten banana, Mraz DNA or no.
At this point, it was around 12:15-ish. My sister said that if I wasn’t feeling well, we could just go home and not wait for Mraz to finishing taking his sweet time inside. I told her we’d wait till 1 because I didn’t have to get up early anyway. Cue lots of waiting in the cold with some bitchy fans (“I’m tired of waiting in lines and not getting anywhere!”), Tie-Dye Crazy, and some normal fans. From outside, we could see Mraz go from the main room, to the bar area, and back again. At 12:45-ish, the guard had all of us get in a line to meet Mraz for the sake of organization.
Finally, finally, at around 1, Mraz came out, signed a couple of things for the people at the front of the line…and proceeded to walk past everyone to his tour bus. There was this mass exclamation of, “Wait a second. Are you serious? We’ve been waiting for you, dude. Can I please have a picture?” Jason heard all of this, kind of stopped hopelessly in the middle of the group, and wondered out loud how we were going to do this because, while a dozen or so people isn’t a lot, it would still take all night to take individual pictures with them, especially if every person took 5 minutes to geek out.
Out of nowhere came the idea of splitting everyone into groups and taking group pictures. Before I was sure what was happening, Jason Mraz was standing next to me, Kasey, and a few other girls, and telling us that we were first. He had to clarify a couple of times what the hell he was talking about because it was all happening so fast, and he was standing too close for any of us to be thinking rationally. Somehow, our cameras were quickly passed to total strangers.
We look like an Asian tourist group who ran into Jason Mraz on the street. BTW, I totally brushed against his mainly, hairy arm before this picture was taken.
We returned the favor by taking pictures for the next group and so on. It was a genius idea because the group pictures, while kind of weird, worked really well all the same and satisfied most of the people’s need to take a picture with him.
When he moved to go back into the Troubadour, a group started chasing him down again, including my sister, who wanted her CD signed. She successfully shoved herself into the group getting things signed, and I thought that was that. But then, she asked him if she could have a hug. As cool as can be, Mraz answered, “Sure. Hugs are groovy,” and wrapped her up in what looked like one of the longest, coziest hugs I have ever seen. And I swear he closed his eyes and everything. Plus, when she pulled away, she kind of pet his knit cap like the crazy, touchy fangirl she is.
Finally, it was time to go home. My sister floated on her little cloud of happiness all the way to the car. We passed Toca on the way and wished him a good night. He returned the greeting and, seeing that we were two young girls walking in the middle of the night in West Hollywood, added, “You drive safely, too!”
And because I’m not sure how else to end this post, look at the awesome picture I took!
And get it? It was the Music (self-explanatory), Magic (Justin Kredible), Make Peace (Makepeace Brothers) Tour!
I feel odd and mildly guilty that I spent a good chunk of Mraz fangirling time by squeeing over the guys from Firefly. Trust me; I was equally ecstatic to meet Mraz. As my sister pointed out, though, I expected to see Mraz. Mentally, I was (kind of) prepared for that. What I didn’t expect was seeing two actors who(m?) I adore. There. Fangirlishness excused.
In any case, great day? Or greatest day? Exactly.
***
In other news, of course I'm working a closing shift on the night The Office comes back. I've only been waiting months for it to return. Thank the good Lord for DVR.
Just a forewarning, that cut down there is hiding an unapologetically epic account of the Mraz concert at the Troubadour in West Hollywood last Sunday, April 6th. It’s mostly for my benefit, really. My memory is terrible. None of these details are going to exist in about a week. Still, to the brave souls who click that (totally not dial-up friendly) cut, I hope you enjoy the pretty. Watch the videos at least. Mraz is worth it.
[Note: Most photos and all videos were taken by my sister. It was, however, my camera, so I get partial credit. *nods*]
General seating is a concert issue that usually raises two questions in considering how early to get to the show: 1) How close do you really want to be to the stage? and 2) What percentage of your fellow concertgoers would be crazy enough to line up that early?
My preliminary answers to those questions were 1) Pretty damn close and 2) For Jason Mraz? Like, 80%.
Unfortunately, I caught a wicked cold in the days leading up to the concert, so camping out for hours suddenly didn’t seem like a viable idea. Plus, I woke up on Sunday morning to discover that my voice was pretty much gone. None of that fun cheering and singing along for me, it seemed.
My sister, the caring soul that she is, said that we didn’t have to go that early if I wasn’t feeling well and that we didn’t have to go at all if I wasn’t feeling up to it. That latter offer had to be total bullcrap because there was no way we were going to miss Mraz, but I appreciated the sentiment all the same.
Excitement overruled any cold-induced feelings of crappiness. We arrived at the Troubadour in West Hollywood (WeHo! *snicker*) at around 5 PM, 2 hours before doors opened and 3 hours before the show. There was a slight issue with parking. Essentially, the issue was that we had no idea where to park. We circled the block three times, giving us an opportunity to see the area and Mraz’s tour bus, which was parked out in front. Serendipity was on our side and found us a pretty fantastic parking spot on a side street not one block from the Troubadour.
The line itself for the show wound around the building but was far shorter than I expected. I couldn’t help but notice that there were a lot of Asian kids in line. No, none of my usual sarcastic racist jokes here. I’m just making an observation. Wait! I got one: there were so many Asians, I thought there was a boba place nearby that closed early. Badum-bum! …No? Too obvious?
Anyhoo, a few minutes after joining the end of the line, I left my sister to her own devices to go around the corner of the building towards the front entrance to look for the Will Call booth and possibly a restroom. The front doors were open with a handful of people loitering around. At the same time I got to the entrance, there was another girl who was stopped by a guard from going inside. She asked him if she could use the restroom. He let her in, and I made a mental note that I could go in there if my bladder threatened to explode.
I asked the guard where the Will Call booth was so I could retrieve my tickets. I think he started to answer me, but right at that very moment, a familiar-looking guy in a gray t-shirt, linen pants, and a knit beanie came out and greeted some guys who were standing around the entrance. It took me a second before I realized that OMG that guy was Jason Mraz.
By the time I registered that the guard was telling me that the line I was in was also the Will Call line, I was too shocked and hopped up on DayQuil to do anything rational, so what did I do? I numbly thanked the guard for the info and straight up walked away from Jason Mraz without acknowledging him at all. Hold on to the rotten tomatoes, guys. I’m kicking myself enough as it is.
Still, some part of my brain was lucid enough to realize what just happened, and I couldn’t help my smile as I went back to my sister in line. Before I could say anything to her, she sort of grumbled, “Yes, I know Jason Mraz was there. I heard.” Momentarily, I marveled how word traveled faster down the line than I did.
In something of a daze, I added, “I was standing, like, a foot away from him.” From the look on my sister’s face, she was doing everything in her power to not slap me right then and there. She asked me why I didn’t jump him or knock him out and bring him to her. I answered, “I’m sick. I wasn’t thinking straight. Leave me alone.” Amusingly, the girl in front of us asked me what he was wearing. I told my sister that I was aware that I was totally giving her a non-reaction about seeing Mraz and that if our positions were reversed and she saw someone I adored, I’d probably kill her, too.
The next couple of hours in line were kind of a blur. Mostly, I was feeling like crap. I think my sister was on the phone. I killed time by watching ‘shippy moments from Doctor Who on my iPod.
A little past 7, we were let into the Troubadour. To the left of the entrance was small bar area where the merchandise table and a tiny bathroom were (“That bathroom’s kind of grody. I think I caught an STD from it.”). The main room itself was fairly small: a stage, bar, and second level in a room that fit maybe 200 people.
Surprisingly, there weren’t too many people in front of the stage when we came in. My sister and I staked out spots on the left side of the stage in front of Toca Rivera’s bongo drums near the entrance. The only things separating us from the stage were a group of loud Mraz fangirls who were slowly getting drunk. My favorite one was the one in red who stood directly in front of me and kept her arms over her head during most of the show, effectively blocking my view. I retaliated by glaring at the back of her head and wishing ill thoughts upon her.
The show itself began with Justin Kredible (get it? Just-in-credible?!), the MC/magician for the night, doing some tricks that, honestly, weren’t all that memorable. He was cute and funny, though, so I liked him. He introduced the opening band, the Makepeace Brothers, who did some fun, folky music. Again, not totally memorable, but they were a little overshadowed by the excitement of Mraz waiting in the wings.
The Makepeace Brothers being all cute with their guitars and…box. Later, we realized the bandaid under the eye of the one on the left was actually just a piece of tape. …Which…what…?
For their last song, they called everyone on stage for a fun group sing-along.
Mraz at Toca’s bongos, rockin’ the tambourine and using the bongos as a handy side table. (Side note: Oh! I took this one! I remember because I was all, “OMG, I DIDN’T THINK HE WOULD STAND AT THE DRUMS!” Not the most interesting thought, I know. I’m going for realism here, people.)
Between bands, Justin Kredible came out and had the Makepeace Brothers aid him in a table levitation trick…
…and then did a balloon animal/sword swallowing trick in which he swallowed the entire balloon like a sword. Trust me, it’s more impressive than I’m making it sound. Before he shoved the balloon down his throat, Justin joked, “Don’t get any ideas, guys.” Ha! The guy was adorable.
At some point around here, my sister asked the girl in front of her if she could stand in front of her because she was short. The girl generously agreed, and I only saw my sister about once or twice again during the remainder of the concert.
Bushwalla, the next artist/band/singing guy. I guess you can describe his stuff as odd, jokey, pop-rock. Whatever it was, he put on a great show
Toca Rivera, Mraz’s bongo player and backup singer, all-around nice guy. During the show, he kept high-fiving and shaking the hands of the group in front of me
During Bushwalla’s set, I noticed that a lot of the band members had faux facial hair in the form of electrical tape on their faces. I figured it was a fun in-joke until…
…this guy named Johnny Wishbone came out to play keyboard.
It took me a full minute to realize that this “Johnny Wishbone” was Jason Mraz. In my defense, I was standing behind a microphone stand and couldn’t really see his face
But if there was any doubt as to who this guy was, it was all dashed as soon as he started singing. There’s no mistaking that glorious, glorious voice of his
I love these guys-and, really, everyone else in the band, too. They put on such a fun show
Rawr. As Johnny Wishbone said about his guns, “These pythons are deadly.”
Mraz’s set list. It’s pretty readable if you squint, methinks
To kill time between Bushwalla and Mraz’s sets, I started looking up at the second level and the staircase leading up to it behind me. It was dark, but a familiar male figure coming down the stairs caught my eye. The proverbial light bulb went off above my head. That guy looked like Nathan Fillion. Squinting, I tried to see beyond the darkness and the dozen or so people behind me at the guy who was now at the back of the room. I frantically got my sister’s attention and squealed something to the effect of, “Holy crap, I think that’s Nathan Fillion back there!”
My sister, who is also in love with the awesomeness that is Nathan Fillion, got in on the neck-craning action until she spotted someone walking towards the bar. By the time she confirmed that it was probably him, he was gone. Immediately, I texted Abie “Holy shit, I’m 95% sure I saw Nathan Fillion at this Jason Mraz concert!” She replied with excitement and the obvious question of “Why is he at a Mraz concert?” I texted that I didn’t know, but I was going to hunt down whoever that guy was to see if it was Nathan Fillion or not. More covertly frantic crowd searching ensued but to no avail.
Justin Kredible killing time before Mraz. This picture does not do justice as to how cute this guy actually is
Following a trick involving a banana, Mraz came out eating a banana that my sister and I would revisit later
Cue the screaming fans, which I totally would’ve been a part of if I could actually scream that day.
In any case, OMG, we were so close to the stage. I stood about two feet from the right side of the stage, right in front of Toca. Only the annoyingly drunk girls stood between me and the stage. I was even close enough to take a picture of Toca’s gnome
That? Has got to be the coolest gnome in existence
Half a song in, and I think this is the point where I forgot to breathe
During the first song, the brass section started playing out of nowhere. Turns out that they were on the second level just above my head.
So we don’t forget what venue we’re in
Artsy shot!
My sister gets her knack for awesome framing from me. And possibly yearbook. But mostly me.
*sigh* A guy with a guitar and a beautiful voice. Can the man be any hotter? I think not.
And because there is no way that I can even begin to describe how amazing Mraz’s voice is live, I bring videos!
“If It Kills Me”: This is one that will be on the next album. This song makes me all swoony. His voice in this one kills me (no pun intended). [3:15]
“Beautiful Mess”: Another new one from his next album. Gah. Could you just melt?! [2:04]
Awesome song whose name escapes me: Mraz showing off his mad lyrical skillz [1:52]
“Make It Mine”: This is just a fun song. [1:48]
Mraz and the sax player/Birthday Boy of the evening
The finale of the night was when everyone came out onstage…
…until, suddenly, everyone froze like the end of one of those 80s sitcoms. Justin Kredible came onstage with an adorable girl, who heretofore shall be named The Luckiest Audience Member Ever, to introduce everybody on stage by way of taking the girl’s picture with each individual as he introduced them. Honestly, I was impressed with the creativity of the intros
Frozen!Makepeace Brothers
Luckiest Audience Member Ever and Frozen!Toca
Frozen!Bushwalla and FrozenGangsta!Mraz
Justin Kredible to Luckiest Audience Member Ever: “This is your chance to get to second base with Jason Mraz.” Lucky ass.
The last song was an acoustic-turned-sing-along version of “You and I Both,” which is one of my favorite Mraz songs. And as he stood there a mere ten feet from me with his acoustic guitar, singing that gorgeous song with that perfect voice of his, I swear I could’ve passed out from happiness right then. At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, it was quite possibly one of the best moments of my life.
Aside from the girl in red in front of me and her drunk friends who kept banging on Toca’s bongos, the show was mothereffing amazing. (There were moments when she put her arms down, and for a good chunk of the concert, I managed to shift to her left so she wasn’t blocking me at all. And when she was blocking me, I coughed on her. A lot. Because I’m twelve-years-old, apparently.)
Mraz is one of those artists who is far better live. The recorded albums do no justice to his voice and energy. The whole show was just a big ball of OMGWTFAMAZING.
Anyhoo, the show ended, everyone started scattering, and the hunt for Nathan Fillion was back on. What happened next completely slips my mind. The next thing I remember, I turned towards the entrance to find a guy who looked an awful lot like Nathan Fillion. When he started to walk away from two girls who looked about as starstruck as I felt, my sister an I flagged him down and asked to take a picture with him.
At this point, I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing. Palms were getting sweaty; my jaw was probably hanging open; my voice was gone as it was, so I probably sounded even more like a dork than usual. I was a mess. As if I wasn’t freaking out enough as it was, when he happily agreed to take a picture, he took the camera from my hand and said, “I’ll do it.”
Somehow, I took that cue to squish myself against him for a picture. Yeah, because I needed an excuse to touch Nathan Fillion. My sister tried to squeeze in next to me for the picture, but he kind of pulled back and said something along the lines of “No, her first. I’ll take one with you next.” The man likes taking those self-portraits, apparently.
OMG, that is Nathan Fillion. And me. THAT IS NATHAN FILLION AND ME. THAT IS NATHAN FILLION AND ME IN THE SAME PHOTO. AND I AM TOUCHING HIM (not in that way; get your minds out of the gutter). AND THAT’S RIGHT, HE HAS HIS ARM AROUND ME. AND HE IS HOLDING MY CAMERA, WHICH I WILL NOW HAVE TO PUT ON DISPLAY AS THE CAMERA THAT NATHAN FILLION TOUCHED.
And you bet your gorram ass that if I didn’t have a cold, I totally would’ve sniffed him to find out if he smelled as good as he seems like he would. What? Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same. Also, for the record, his hair is as soft as it looks. I felt it on my face while we took the picture. [insert swooning here]
No, I don’t care that he totally has crazy, half-drunken eyes in that picture. It’s Nathan Fillion; therefore, it is one of my favorite pictures in the history of photography.
I wanted to post my sister’s picture with him, too, but she wouldn’t let me. Personally, I loved the picture because she had crazy eyes in it. That is also the precise reason why she won’t let me post it.
And then my sister-God bless her ‘cause I didn’t think I could untwist my brain to say anything right then-asked him for a hug. Again, he graciously agreed and put an arm around both of us for a hug. I may have died right then. I’m not sure.
Before he left, I realized that I should say something. Turns out that “something” was me dorking out by babbling, “I loved you in Firefly, and Serenity, and Waitress! …and Desperate Housewives, I guess.” My sister deadpanned, “I love you always.” And with a smile and a little wave, he was gone.
Literally shaking with excitement, I quickly reviewed the pictures in my camera to make sure his photography wasn’t shoddy. A very excited text message was sent to Abie that I hugged Nathan Fillion. She returned that I couldn’t bathe until she hugged me in order to get some of the residual Fillion-ness.
While we loitered around, waiting for Mraz to come out of the green room, my sister searched the stage for something to take. I pointed out the browning, half-eaten banana Mraz was munching on earlier that was now sitting on the stage. Half-jokingly, I suggested she take it, if only for the DNA sample. And what do you know-she actually took it. Yep. That’s my sister, alright.
When Toca came out, my sister asked to take a picture with him. He graciously agreed and asked her name. There was some small talk about his gnome and how great the show was. I was really impressed by Toca. He was very pleasant and seemed genuinely interested in what we were saying. Before we left him, I think my sister asked him, too, for a hug (the girl is all about hugs), which he also graciously agreed to.
Realizing that Mraz probably wasn’t going to come out any time soon, we decided to oogle the pretty Makepeace Brothers at the bar/merchandise area. As soon as the bar came into view, my sister very casually said, “And look, there’s Nathan.” Sure enough, there was Nathan Fillion and a couple of people getting hammered at the bar. I realized the back of one of Nathan Fillion’s cohorts looked very familiar. My suspicions were confirmed when the red-haired main turned slightly.
And this is where I couldn’t reel in the inner fangirl anymore. I straight out started flailing. Hands were waving frantically. I was bouncing on the balls of my feet. My words stopped making sense. Nearly punching my sister to get her attention, I squealed, “Holy shit, that’s Alan Tudyk!”
At this moment, I started brainstorming ideas of what I could possibly do for Abie. Have them take a picture in which they pretend to have an arm around an invisible person so I could Photoshop her in later? Call Abie and have them leave a drunken message for her (because they were so getting hammered at the bar)?
My thoughts were interrupted by two women who caught us trying to get Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk’s attention. They asked where Nathan Fillion was from, and my sister and I started listing what we remembered of his résumé. At some point, a stout woman in a pink tie-dyed shirt joined in the conversation. I asked if she was a Firefly fan. This was apparently a trigger for her to excitedly ramble on that she’d been trying to meet these guys for ages and that she even bought tickets for a Firefly convention that got cancelled.
My sister and I exchanged an “ooooh-kaaaay…” look and finally got Alan Tudyk’s attention to ask him for a picture. (I kept kind of tapping him on the shoulder and saying his first name because we were obviously on a first-name basis.)
I didn’t expect him to look so…goofy. Still, I adore him all the same. At least he was looking at the camera in my picture. In my sister’s, he was looking away because, funnily enough, he decided to help Tie-Dye Crazy list the movies and TV shows he was in.
Again, I dorked out and told him I loved him in Firefly and that I cried when he died in Serenity. Suddenly, Tie-Dye Crazy jumped in about how she cried, too, and was so upset and blah, blah, blah, crazycakes. I don’t remember what else she said because I started to slowly back away to let the guys get back to their getting wasted at the bar.
As others came in to take pictures with them, I gathered that Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk aren’t necessarily Mraz fans, but the latter is friends with the Birthday Boy Saxophone Player Dude from the band (who was then also drinking with them), so they spent the show drinking at the bar. Mystery solved!
Also, cute side note: a woman asked Nathan Fillion, Alan Tudyk, and Birthday Boy Saxophone Player Dude to take a sexy picture. They all tried to do the Blue Steel look (unfortunately, my camera’s delay took too damn long, so I didn’t get a copy of it), but Alan faltered and said that his look disintegrated to a “Red Rust.” Aww, Alan.
My sister and I loitered around Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk for a few more minutes before deciding to join the short merchandise line to meet Bushwalla and the Makepeace Brothers. Although, to be honest, there was no line needed for the latter. They ended up spending the rest of the evening wandering amongst the people waiting for Mraz, looking as though they were really hoping someone would ask them to sign something or take a picture.
It was a very casual atmosphere. The show was pretty small to begin with, so even less people were left afterwards. The few remaining fans mingled pretty freely among the artists-with the exception of Mraz himself. He decided to hole himself up in the main room with a few friends. It was actually a little surreal that we were that close to Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk for so long without doing so much as taking our pictures and leaving them be.
I took this because my sister told me to. I also ended up looking like the crazy girl who took a random picture because he was all “Oooookay…” In my defense, I just wanted a picture of him; I didn’t necessarily want a picture with him.
I convinced my sister to throw away the banana that was stinking up her bag. My mom would’ve killed me if she knew it was my idea to take home a rotten banana, Mraz DNA or no.
At this point, it was around 12:15-ish. My sister said that if I wasn’t feeling well, we could just go home and not wait for Mraz to finishing taking his sweet time inside. I told her we’d wait till 1 because I didn’t have to get up early anyway. Cue lots of waiting in the cold with some bitchy fans (“I’m tired of waiting in lines and not getting anywhere!”), Tie-Dye Crazy, and some normal fans. From outside, we could see Mraz go from the main room, to the bar area, and back again. At 12:45-ish, the guard had all of us get in a line to meet Mraz for the sake of organization.
Finally, finally, at around 1, Mraz came out, signed a couple of things for the people at the front of the line…and proceeded to walk past everyone to his tour bus. There was this mass exclamation of, “Wait a second. Are you serious? We’ve been waiting for you, dude. Can I please have a picture?” Jason heard all of this, kind of stopped hopelessly in the middle of the group, and wondered out loud how we were going to do this because, while a dozen or so people isn’t a lot, it would still take all night to take individual pictures with them, especially if every person took 5 minutes to geek out.
Out of nowhere came the idea of splitting everyone into groups and taking group pictures. Before I was sure what was happening, Jason Mraz was standing next to me, Kasey, and a few other girls, and telling us that we were first. He had to clarify a couple of times what the hell he was talking about because it was all happening so fast, and he was standing too close for any of us to be thinking rationally. Somehow, our cameras were quickly passed to total strangers.
We look like an Asian tourist group who ran into Jason Mraz on the street. BTW, I totally brushed against his mainly, hairy arm before this picture was taken.
We returned the favor by taking pictures for the next group and so on. It was a genius idea because the group pictures, while kind of weird, worked really well all the same and satisfied most of the people’s need to take a picture with him.
When he moved to go back into the Troubadour, a group started chasing him down again, including my sister, who wanted her CD signed. She successfully shoved herself into the group getting things signed, and I thought that was that. But then, she asked him if she could have a hug. As cool as can be, Mraz answered, “Sure. Hugs are groovy,” and wrapped her up in what looked like one of the longest, coziest hugs I have ever seen. And I swear he closed his eyes and everything. Plus, when she pulled away, she kind of pet his knit cap like the crazy, touchy fangirl she is.
Finally, it was time to go home. My sister floated on her little cloud of happiness all the way to the car. We passed Toca on the way and wished him a good night. He returned the greeting and, seeing that we were two young girls walking in the middle of the night in West Hollywood, added, “You drive safely, too!”
And because I’m not sure how else to end this post, look at the awesome picture I took!
And get it? It was the Music (self-explanatory), Magic (Justin Kredible), Make Peace (Makepeace Brothers) Tour!
I feel odd and mildly guilty that I spent a good chunk of Mraz fangirling time by squeeing over the guys from Firefly. Trust me; I was equally ecstatic to meet Mraz. As my sister pointed out, though, I expected to see Mraz. Mentally, I was (kind of) prepared for that. What I didn’t expect was seeing two actors who(m?) I adore. There. Fangirlishness excused.
In any case, great day? Or greatest day? Exactly.
***
In other news, of course I'm working a closing shift on the night The Office comes back. I've only been waiting months for it to return. Thank the good Lord for DVR.