In which the House of Blues is quite the opposite.....
Left work an hour early, just so I could see sickish kiddies (they are on the recovering side) and got caught by my lead S.- I am going to make it up later in the week, dammit, but he gave me such a look. You'd think he wasn't taking a six day weekend. I never remember not to take Beach Blvd. up to the 22 and it was about 35 mph the whole way. Then I managed to get behind a red pickup whose driver was either drunk or had something seriously wrong with his alignment-- he kept drifting over the line and swerving back, and when brake lights ahead of him came on, he came almost to a complete stop on the freeway. He finally got off on Harbor Blvd. southbound and I got off on northbound; when I came up to the intersection, I saw him across the street from me making a right turn right in front of everyone turning left from my direction. What a nutjob. I thought later I had a cell phone in my pocket and I should have reported him; by then I couldn't remember the license plate number. I hope someone else did.
V. and I met in the parking lot of Target, down Harbor Blvd. from Disneyland, and carpooled to save on parking fees, which as it happened, we didn’t have to pay. Downtown Disney has three hours of free parking and then the House of Blues validated for another couple hours. I had brought my new digital camera along in hope of getting a picture, but alas, a big sign out front saying "No cameras," so I hot footed it back to the car and stowed it under a jacket.
The HOB is an interesting venue; all standing room, except for some stools around the balcony railing, with bars along the sides. Folk art and antique quilts hang on the walls, and over the stage are icons of various religious groups; Mary, Ganesha, Ohm, a crescent and star -- but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what the green urn full of flames referred to -- maybe someone can enlighten me. We got a drink apiece (V. gasped at how much a cosmopolitan was, my merlot was cheaper) and V. being on the petite side, decided to stand on the steps near the side of the stage.
The opening act was Rhett Miller of the Old 97s, who I enjoyed quite a bit, but we were glad we weren’t in the front row - he was a very enthusiastic performer, to the point that, several times I saw spit flying off into the audience. I might have to get his CD just for the songs "I’m in Love with a Four-Eyed Girl," which contained the memorable line "I was a rock-and-roller, she was a science teacher," and "Leaving the Back Door Open," which he claimed was about a cat, but could be construed to be about a girlfriend. When he left the stage, I told V. he needed to go have a cup of coffee to calm down.
A short break, during which I realized that what I thought were lamps showing stars of cobalt blue light across the room were actually TV screens that had been showing the stage. The whole time Rhett had been playing I had been thinking, “Those look really neat; I’m going to have to get a closer look at them. The stars were actually the stage lights and why I didn’t notice the little figure bouncing around underneath them is beyond me. By this time I had tied my jacket around my waist so I could have hands free to clap and put my hair up; it was really warm in there, and I could not believe how many people down in front of the stage were still wearing their coats. Then again, maybe it was just me; I never did get cool again after I ran in from the parking lot, and I was wearing a San Jose Sharks hockey shirt. Not that I'm a huge hockey fan -- I just like the logo.
Then Neil came out. *Sigh.* The man is gorgeous; his music is gorgeous; he's funny; and he has a Kiwi accent. What's not to love? The rumor from my mailing list is that everyone on the tour was feeling fluish, but it didn't seem to be in evidence during this performance. V. was singing along almost as much as me; it turns out she had actually been to a Crowded House concert or two. Old stuff and new stuff mixed together, but only a couple of paper airplanes, which he suggested needed to come up in a whole convoy "It'd be more effective, don't you reckon?" and he picked them up and threw them back. No more came up, but iti did initiate an impromptu of "Leaving on a Jet Plane" -- he said something about he figured a lot of his fans were also Peter Paul and Mary fans, and I yelled back, "No - John Denver!" That then segued into "Comin' into Los Angeleez, Carryin' a couple of Kees" (Bob Dylan?) which he claimed he had won a talent contest with when he was 13 and had no idea what the words meant. He beat out a lounge singer crooning "Quando, Quando Quando," and wiggling his ass between lines (he demonstrated for us -wiggle, wiggle XD ) I had been trying to think of something clever to put on a paper airplane the whole day, but I couldn't come up with anything. I had a cat's eye shooter marble in my pocket, which I thought about tossing on the stage, but with my aim, I could just see accidently beaning him in the head with it, or Schon Sullivan's big feet slipping on it, and everyone landing in a pile of guitars, wires cowboy hats and plaid pants.
Marck's comment about the bass player, "Pineapple Head" featured a Sebastian Steinberg bass solo that at times was so low in the frequency range that it probably induced labor in pregnant women in a four-block radius, and at other times so seductive it probably impregnated two or three others.
This was also very much in evidence during "Love is All That Remains," a very powerful and emotional piece, I think, supposed to refer to 9/11. I think someone said that it's not recorded anywhere yet, disappointing because now all I remember is that it was very affecting, but I can't remember how it went. All I know is, I don't think I'm ovulating, and so am most likely safe from The Bass.
I was a little disappointed not to hear "Lullaby Requiem" -- I was curious since opinions on my list are so polarized about it, and I don't have "One All" yet. And "Human Kindness" which seems to garner positive opinions, I have heard live twice now and something just seems off about it. I need to hear the recorded version, maybe I'm missing something.
But everyone singing along to "Don't Dream It's Over" came too soon; I was glad I could finally belt something out. I don't want to disturb people who came to hear him and not me, but I can't help joining in most of the time. I try to be quiet most of the time. Then again we were right in front of a speaker, so I doubt if anyone could've heard me anyway.
Time to leave. After getting to the car, I put in Try Whistling This, and apologetically enquired of V. if it was an overload. "Oh no, you have to listen to who you went to see to and from the concert!" she exclaimed. We went and had a piece of pie at Denny's, then back to her car and home. I had to take a shower once I got there, since it had been so hot, and climbed in bed.
John told me this morning "I need to send you out to see Neil Finn more often." Heh.
Almost forgot. Hair n' Pants -- shaggyish hair with greying sideburns, parted at the beginning and everywhere by the end, grey suit pants. He didn't take his blazer off until the encore -- it was so warm I couldn't believe he waited that long.