The Beat

Last night I went to a concert.  As I've mentioned before, I've decided I need to add more live music to my life to up the happiness quotient.  It seems to be working out.

In the last year, I've been to four concerts, three of which I attended alone.  The first concert I went to by myself had me a bit nervous -- I hadn't been to many concerts at all over the past decade or two and I'd never been to a concert in Michigan and I just wasn't sure what to expect.  I was self-conscious when the bands weren't playing but easily got lost in the music when the bands were onstage.  All in all, it was a good experience.

The next show I went to was at a different venue and, again, I was a bit nervous going in but managed to occupy myself with a beer while I waited for the band.  By the time I'd made it down to the floor in front of the stage, I'd relaxed enough to have a bloody fantastic night -- and even made a few friends along the way.

By last night, I was perfectly fine with going on my own, even though I'd never been to this venue either.  I made small talk in line outside, waiting for the doors to open (a half-hour late) and actually found that I was relaxed enough to pay attention to the people around me once I was inside.  Like the two groupies for the opening band, who gave them a coy wave and smile before they went on and then danced themselves silly right in front of the stage, with every ounce of their beings shouting "Notice me!  Fuck me!".  Unfortunately for the groupie girls, it was two other not-so-attractive guys who came to dance with them.  It was fun to watch, even if it did make me feel SO much older (and wiser).

The main attraction also had groupies.  Even the groupies had a groupie.  The main groupies were women, two of whom are very into retro pin-up girl fashion.  One of the women is a drop dead gorgeous redhead and her friend is a cute brunette.  Their groupie is a completely unattractive dweeb and I am convinced he was there only because of the girls (although presumably, at some point, he went to the concert for the music - or was dragged along by a buddy).  While these women are probably close to my age, they are still groupies and still push their way right up front and dance with every ounce of their beings shouting "Notice me!", but less of their beings shouting "Fuck me!".

As for my part in all of this, I had the distinct disadvantage of ending up right beside the dweebie groupie groupie guy, who has absolutely no sense of personal space.  He's able to guage well enough the space in front of him and leaves plenty, but can't judge how much room he has to his sides or behind him, which is where I was.  No matter how I tried to move out of his way, he kept moving sideways and backwards into me until I'd bump him back into his own space.  Even after he stepped on my foot (and apologized) and I told him that he kept moving backwards, it made no difference.  Maybe he'd just had too many beers to be able to readjust.  While it was very annoying & kept distracting me from the show, it's all part of being at a concert -- especially at a small club.

This particular club wins the honours of being the teeny-tiniest concert venue I've ever been to. The band I saw has 6 members and I doubted how they'd all fit on stage.  They did, but without much room to spare.  In fact, the drummer had a plexiglass wall surrounding him, presumably to prevent his band mates from falling into his drum kit.  There wasn't much room to spare in the rest of the place either -- we were packed in pretty tight.  But there's nothing like being close to the band and it was certainly easy to do there, no matter where you were in the room.  (I'm so looking forward to my next concert there in May.  You couldn't ask for a more intimate venue, especially to see a singer-songwriter).

Sadly, I had to leave the concert an hour into the set since it was a late start and I had to get home to let the babysitter go home to sleep.  Even so, I got to listen to some new music by the opening band, some old favourites by the headlining band, I got to dance and I had a great time, arriving home tired, sweaty and a wee bit deaf.  What more could I ask for?