Tag Archives: concert

Brooks, Yearwood, and Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother…

History repeats itself, they say (stop it you they people) and I’ve certainly repeated my history too many times to count.  I better just not even bother making a list.  First part of September sometime, I learned that Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood were coming to Salt Lake City for the first time in like 17 years.  As a teeny bopper I listened to Garth Brooks’s greatest hits cassette tape like it was going out of style the next day (side note:  the cassette tape had already gone out of style, but I like to hold onto the geezer technology ways for as long as possible… plus my parents were still playing their record player, so I couldn’t see them buying my butt a CD player… as if their hair follicles were made of million dollar bills!)  Also, Trisha Yearwood is like one of my voice idols and I pretty much owned every single last one of her CDs after I had turned 16 and got a job to pay for them.

I convinced Madre that we needed to go (although she was NOT as excited as I was) and so we geared up to hop on the computers the morning the tickets went on sale.  I pride myself on being a ticket snagging queen… I have specifications of what kind of tickets I want (aisle seat, on the floor, no nose bleeds allowed), and I’m pretty persistent in getting my way in that regard, but Garth Brooks tickets… that’s a whole ‘nother beast in and of itself.

Madre and I hopped on the computer at 9:00 that morning to get in the invisible online ticket que… even thought the tickets weren’t to go on sale until 10:00.  CoughcoughGEEKScoughcough… that’s kind of like hanging out at the Star Wars convention invisible chatroom.  When 10:00 hit, we tried every trick in the book, getting seats, putting them back, getting back in line… etc., ad nauseum… waiting for the precious aisle floor seats to pop up… but they never came.  Every seat we got on 3 computers and 2 phones was in the upper bowl nosebleed section in the middle of a dagnabbed row.  PASS!!!  They added 2 more shows to the 2 they started with and still the same results… nosebleed, nosebleed, nosebleed.  After a few hours, we finally gave up the ghost and I decided to try to talk myself into not wanting to go.  Weeks passed and I had convinced myself it would be a hassle to go anyway.  Totally talked myself out of it.  I truly did NOT want to go.  It was during this time that Madre decided she REALLY wanted to go… we usually agree on things, but never at the same time.

The day before the 4 concerts began, we hopped on KSL Classifieds, found us some dagnabbed seats (NOT on the floor, but aisle seats and lower bowl would have to pass), and so I went through my usual anxiety process of deciding I might not go anyway… what if the seat was too small… too much trouble… too much traffic… too too too too…  Such is the life of my brain every time I go anywhere right up until I’m actually sitting at the event.  The seats?  FREAKING AWESOME…

Oh hi, Big G!  Plus, the seats were the ones without arms and padded, not the usual stadium seating… how lucky could a ball of anxiety gal get?

By the by… if you were wondering… Garth Brooks can put on a dang show, sons and daughters.  Firstly, he’s like the Energizer Bunny on 12 different kinds of caffeine and a no-doze IV.  He spent nearly 3 hours sprinting around the stage, jumping onto dangerous scaffolding and throwing water at the audience… all while still singing.  Uh… I could barely hold my phone up to take a picture while singing, so I have no idea how one does all that in this altitude!

It happened to be this past Saturday, Halloween.  So, there were a bunch of people wearing costumes… 2 rows in front of me sat an older lady dressed as Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother who was overly excited every time someone wearing a costume walked by her and had to take a picture of them.  I’m not sure who she was there for… the costumes or Brooks/Yearwood.  Either way, she brought in all sorts of illegal substances as well… a gallon-sized water bottle from home filled with some sort of mystery “juice.”   Probably prune juice… Cinderella was big on that.

About halfway through, Trisha Yearwood appeared straight out of the floor to sing her duet with Garth, In Another’s Eyes.  It was a surprise to Garth (re: his reaction in the video below) that she happened to be dressed as Elphaba, the wicked witch with green skin from the musical Wicked.

Not gonna lie… it was a bit weird hearing that magnificent voice come out of a green face.  But, I support all colors of voices… puke orange, purple, green… It’s not easy being green…. so says Kermit.  My only complaint… Trisha didn’t sing long enough!  She had 5 songs and an encore at the end.  I guess I’ll just have to dig out my 85 CDs and listen to those instead.

For anyone who wants to experience Friends In Low Places.  Note the falling paper streamers at the end!

The finale… green-faced Trisha dressed down singing Walk Away Joe while Garth accompanied her on the gee-tar.

We interrupt this concert recap to bring you cute Baby Weird-Hatted Fireman BoBo.  He had a shift at the fire department Halloween night, so I’m sure that’s what happened to the hat.

… and scene…

Was it worth the anxiety and the ticket issues… as they say in Cowboyville… yer darn tootin’ Trudy!   One of the best concerts I’ve been to (on par with Celine Dion).  I’m not sure if Madre would agree… tell the people Madre?   Brooks/Yearwood… don’t make it another 20 years before you come back to SLC again!   You can leave Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother in the fairy tale, though.

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Deer Kralling…

Stop it with the lame titles, Whit-Bot… just STAHP!  Meanwhile, back on the lame farm… summer week 1200 ended with a jaunt up to Deer Valley/Park City because for Madre’s birthday I bought her a ticket to see Diana Krall play with the Utah Symphony.  Those who don’t know who the helium balloon Diana Krall is, get with the times!  She’s a jazz pianist/vocalist and I used to worship the songs she walked on because she has this deep/low range, which meant that I could totally reach the notes whilst singing her karaoke songs without having to transpose them down 12 keys.   “Peel Me A Grape” and “Frim Fram Sauce” anyone?  I rest my case.  Although, I was not happy that they chose not to do those songs at the concert.  I digress.

The thing about Deer Valley is that it’s first come, first serve, so if you don’t get in line the night before you might as well realize you’re going to be hiking to the top of the dagnabbed ski hill.  I couldn’t see her… period, end of story… but that was okay because my hearing is clogged from sticking transcription headphones in my ears every day… besides that fact I was too busy experiencing altitude sickness to care.  😛  That’s not true… the sickness part or the clogged ears part… but the altitude thing is real, folks!   By the by… the dude she had playing the violin for her was mad talent at scatting.  We left half of our dinner in the trunk of the car, but hell if we were going to hike back down to Logan to get it… I’d rather starve than hike back up the ski hill again… and let’s face it… look at me… I got a good 45 years before I’d be able to starve to death.

The older lady who was sitting in front of us with her husband and another couple had like a Mary Poppins magic bag of goodies… she kept pulling out food like she worked for Chuck-up-A-Rama on the weekends.  They had salad and sandwiches and 14 kinds of chips and cookies and cake and trail mix and wine (oh, there was wine), and pretty sure she pulled out a lasagna and half a pig she pit-roasted the night before.  We sat their drooling whilst our food was in the car.  I did hike down the hill and back up it to buy me a lemonade, but I didn’t realize they ruined it be putting mint in it until I got back to the top.  It tasted like I was at a hemp herbal yoga class.  Oh to be classy!

The next day we hung out in Park City pretending we were all coordinated enough to be bikers and hikers in the altitude.  Instead we sat in a park and watched the puffy clouds next to an old mining hospital built in 1904.

Didn’t see any ghosts of miners… but I did keep the peepers open just in case.  Instead some chics wearing sashes and crowns came over and asked us to take their pictures in several different poses and then an older lady carrying a knitting bag and a lawn chair sauntered over and asked me where the concert that started at 1:30 was.  Considering it was 1:29 and the only people in the park were the sash/crown ladies and us, I’m pretty sure she had the wrong location.  She decided to sit down and wait for the concert to start anyway.  Someone forgot to tell me to prepare some numbers… I have a feeling she was tres disappointed when she finally left the park that night… but on the bright side, maybe she finished her king-sized afghan.

On the way home, we had to stop off at the newest Trader Joe’s where I bought pickle-flavored popcorn… PICKLES!  And then I had to go out of the way to hit up a place called Mem’s Fruit Truck.  It’s totally on the wrong side of town, North Salt Lake business district, but holy worth it!  It’s a bag of freshest of the fresh fruit with lime juice and a chili flavoring.  Chili spice on fruit!?!?  Totally weird… but it was holy night dee-vine!  It just brought out the flavor of the fruit.  Now, how do I get them to move up this way so I can buy one every day?

Cantaloupe, watermelon, pineapple, mangoes, cucumbers (I know), jicama, and coconut!   Run, do not walk to Mem’s on Redwood Road!  WERTH IT!

In other news, does anyone want to follow me around with a frim frammed baseball bat and whap me upside the head every time I decide to eat my anxiety and feelings away?  I’m feeling kind of stuck and out of control and annoyed and overall frustrated with myself.  This too shall pass… as they say… but in the meantime, I’m going to need to buy a strait jacket.

What did you all do this weekend?  Happy back to school week for a lot of you mothers out there!  😛

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Treble Without A Cause…

I slay me with these titles… don’t call me, I’ll call you!  This week has been quite the mover and shaker said the 80-year-old woman at the sock hop.  No time to sit around dithering at my preferred activity of plucking nostril hairs this week, no siree claudette.  There were things to be done and places to go!  Madre and I were involved in the backing choir when a certain member of the Celtic Women came from Ireland to put on a concert in lil’ ole Cache Valley, Utah.  Madre was in charge of wrangling up the choir and supposedly the requirements for folks who could be in said choir were strictly enforced… aka you couldn’t have gold eyes or like sardines.  Phewf… totally passed both of those requirements.  We started practicing as a choir in June… and were able to finally have our very first rehearsal with the Irish talent, Alex Sharpe, a week ago when she flew in to prepare for the 2-night event.  Alex was as sweet as sweet can be… very humble and down to Earth and was insistent on sharing the spotlight with everyone (and believe you me, some people took advantage of that fact.)

There was other talent too.  Brett Pruneau is an up and coming singer who right now is headlining shows in Las Vegas, Steve Young is an accomplished pianist/organist/arranger (it was he who was responsible for putting this all together), John Knudson, an accomplished violinist having lived in Washington DC and performed for presidential inaugurations and other celebrity shindigs, and Ryan Olsen, an accomplished tenor vocalist (fun fact… he is the nephew of famed football star and “Little House on the Prairie” actor, Merlin Olsen).  There was that shindig to practice for, and there were a lot of moving parts with a lot of different singer/musician involvement.

Photo courtesy of Weston Lee Allen (Ignore the blob on the 2nd row who looks like she’s drooling out the sides of her mouth… she must have been dreaming about chocolate cake).  There was also an orchestra ensemble and an entire children’s choir.  If you’d like to see more pictures (coughcoughMADREcoughcough) check out the Salt Lake Tribune’s coverage. The music was wide ranging… hymns, Disney medlies (including “Feed the Birds”), broadway numbers (including “Bring Him Home” from Les Mis), pop hits, opera, etc.  Lots of talented folk up there.  I was blessed to get to be a part of it… thanks to my hatred of sardines for making this possible.

Alex and Brett courtesy of Brett Pruneau’s Instagram account.

The performance was 2 nights… but Madre and I were trebles without a cause and had to skip the 2nd night due to prior commitments.  Long before they’d set an actual date for this shindig, we bought tickets to see Pentatonix and Kelly Clarkson in the land of congested traffic jams!  We discretely blended in with the pipe organs the first night and then didn’t show up the 2nd night and no one even knew the difference!  Plumpomatic 2000!  I’m sure had they asked me to do a glockenspiel solo, it would have been a different story.  You don’t forget the glockenspiel lady!  (side note before I get any booking requests, I do not play the glockenspiel… it was a bad joke).

I wrestled with whether to skip out on the second night for months and had almost decided to bag the Kelly Clarkson concert and finish out the concert we’d been practicing for, but my cheap wadness and hatred of wasting money won out.  The Pentatonix/Clarkson concert was the bomb diggity and definitely worth the traffic jam afterwards where we sat in the parking lot in the car for an hour before we finally moved an inch.  That’s called a Heinz Ketchup Bottle Neck if there ever was one!

We had pretty stellar seats… and that is exactly why every picture I ever took looks like an angelic blob of light descended into my camera lens.  This is as good as it gets!

For kicks and giggles, here’s BOTH Kelly Clarkson and Pentatonix singing together… they rocked!

There’s my run-in with actual rebellion… said no one who’s ever been to prison before.  How was y’all’s weekend?

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Naturally Buble…

We bought tickets to go to the Michael Buble concert in Salt Lake City wayyyyyyyyyyy back in May-ish.  I immediately forgot that it was coming up until I was reminded the night before (this past Monday night) that the concert was the next day.  WHAT!?  Where did that whole dang year go?  I probably ate it.

We had pretty good seats… except for the time when a few minutes after this pic was taken, a dude carrying a 5-billion pound backpack and a motorcycle helmet came and sat in front of me… and then proceeded to sit his stash on top of my foot space.  I can’t tell you how many times I kicked that bicycle helmet… in a friendly way, mind you.  It was more of a friendly pat than a kick… a hate love pat.

These were my concert-going compadres.  We’d arrived about half an hour early, so spent that half hour trying to get a decent picture.  Didn’t work… no matter which direction we took the picture in SOMEONE wasn’t happy.  Madre lost the battle on this one because the one who was closest to the camera ended up looking like one of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade gigantisized balloons while the folks in the background looked tiny in comparison.  Sorry, Madre… thanks for taking one for the team!  😛  Notice I didn’t put any of me in here.  I was rivaling the Snoopy balloon in all of mine.

I didn’t know what to expect as far as opening acts go, and honestly had no clue who his opening act would be.  By gosh these fellas were good!  It was an accapella group by the name of Naturally 7 but they were far and above any accapella group I’d ever heard.  They specialized in what they called “Vocal Play,” a “wall of sound.”  They made their voices sound like every instrument you could imagine, and it wasn’t the cheesy-sounding, like the people who think they sound like a trumpet but really sound like a duck being strangled.  I was busy looking for the guitar that must have been off stage!  My favorite song they sang was a version of Fix You by Coldplay.  Beautiful!

Naturally 7 you just made a new fan… naturally!  😛

Next up… the man of the hour… Michael Buble!  He was fun… and classic… and all that good stuff.  You really can’t go wrong with a big band/orchestra and standards… plus some of his original songs thrown in for good measure!

At one point he walked down the aisle right next to where we were sitting and I turned into a Bieber Fever teeny bopper fangirl or some such nonsense.  I don’t normally get star struck… they’re people… they just happen to have more money than I do and a better hair stylist.  But, when he walked down the aisle right past me, my hand automatically shot out so I could touch his sleeve… uber creepy, y’all!  It was like space aliens inhabited my body.

I captured the uber creepy moment on video… the body guards could have wrastled my alien self to the ground… mark my words on that one!

This was the point in the concert where it rained hearts and I almost had a heart attack… literally… hearts were attacking left and right.

‘Twas a fun way to spend a Tuesdee night.  The alien has left my body, friends.  I am now back to thinking Bieber Fever needs a shower and a good swift kick to the rear patookus.  The world will thank me!

Bonus videos:

The one where he sings some Jackson 5 with Naturally 7, would that make it Naturally 8?

The one where he sings one of my favorite songs, You Don’t Know Me.

 

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Of Micey Shower Heads and Drunken Men…

My shower head broke recently.  I guess you know it’s time to get a new one when the ceiling is getting more of a shower than you are.  To keep its self esteem up (the old shower head’s), I just focussed on how gosh darn talented he was, spitting out the back of his sprockets and all.  So, I got a new one… only I didn’t read the package very well because apparently I’m illiterate, and I missed the portion of the package that said it was a “water-saving” shower head.  Now, I’m all for saving water, FREE THE FORESTS… blah, blah, blah, ad nauseum, but when it takes me 14 times longer to rinse the shampoo out my hair, I don’t see how I’m saving much water.  The water pressure in this new shower head is like if I lived in the Sahara and 3 severely dehydrated baby camels (camelettes?) took turns spitting on me.  It’s like a frizzle of a rainstorm.  And, I don’t know if y’all noticed or not (and I don’t mean to brag), but my body is shaped kind of like a barge (and I ain’t talking about the 80s band, DeBarge), and I might as well just invest in one of them watering cans and tie it to the ceiling for my shower head instead of this dud of a piece.  Whomever invented this shower head must be the size of a mouse in lean times.  Oh, the HORRORS I live through!  😛

In other news, Saturday we headed up to Deer Valley in Park City, Utah (aka altitude sickness haven) to attend an outdoor concert!  My favorite band, One Republic and singer, Sara Bareilles!  Woot woot!  Last year when we attended a concert at Deer Valley’s outdoor amphitheatre we got rained out (I could have brought soap on a rope and had a more decent shower than my new shower head provides), so this year I planned ahead and checked the weather forecast for chances of rain.  It gave me a 30% chance of rain for Saturday, which in high-altitude mountain terms is pretty much 150% chance (in Cache Valley terms it’s pretty much ZERO PERCENT chance).  Sure enough, when we arrived in town at around 3:00 it started pouring rain.  Because I’m a negative nuisance, I was sure that meant we were out of a concert.  Ain’t no way I’m sitting in a puddle of mud for 4 hours.  That sounds miserable!  It rained buckets for about 2 hours, and then to my surprise, it stopped and the clouds dissipated and we had nary a drop for the remainder of the night.  GO WEATHER!!  I felt a few drops here and there, but I think it was the wine-drunken men and women behind me spitting on me.  You never can tell with the elite drinkers.

I met my friend, Rachel there.  Of course this is a horrible picture, but seriously we survived the rain from hades… and also I just realized our close proximity to the 800 outhouses in the background (aka Honey Buckets)… I should have rethought that seating arrangement.  Thanks for letting me come, Rachel.  Twas super fun times!

This was the opening opening act… some chick who wasn’t Churchill who was supposed to be Churchill but wasn’t and basically we didn’t really care.  Bring out the real dudes!

And there was blue sky!  See those condos way over yonder?  We vowed that next time we were going to rent one of those and just watch the concert from the balcony.  What could be better!?  You will also notice the lady in the yellow rain slicker tempting the rain like she’s wanting it.  Take that thing off!

That great and spacious building atop that hill… next time it’s my goal to ride the tram up there.  We couldn’t see that there were any roads that led up there… just the tram tracks.

Every singer on the stage mentioned the high altitude and you could tell it got to them on account of the fact that they were huffing and puffing in the thin air up there.   No matter… basically Sara Bareilles can SANG her patookus off and One Republic has so many hit songs, they might as well start a foundation!  Also, their lead singer, Ryan Tedder, can sing too!  Good times!

Question of the Day:  Any shower head recommendations?  Who is your favorite band?  

PS – In other other news… it finally rained last night.  We have had ZERO rain all summer… it’s a drought to be sure, but on the night we did get rain, I left the basement window wide open to cool off the basement (as I usually do at night because there is no air conditioning in this place).  Somehow the rain gutter broke off, and the water puddled up in the window well and flooded the carpet.  The carpet is now pulled up (no thanks to me) and it smells like moldy death down here.  I’m bottling it for my new perfume line if anyone is interested.

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Carrie Underwear…

Suck it… I’m 12.  I call her Carrie Underwear because then I can giggle like a 12-year-old at a Bieber Fever concert!   She said underwear!!  Tee hee hee… hee hee hee hee hee…  I had almost forgotten that I’d purchased Carrie Underwood tickets many moons and eons ago.  It’s nice having little surprises of your former life of not feeling as cash-strapped (but still cash-strapped… let’s face it).  The concert was this past Wednesday in West Valley City… The Maverik Center!  Woot!  Adventure’s first stop!  

We had 19th row on the floor… which was cool and all, except dances-like-a-freakzoid chic and personal-bubbles-are-not-in-my-vocabulary chic also had a seat on the 19th row.  It wouldn’t have been a problem if Madre had just embraced the backpack in her lap instead of rolling her eyes back into her skull-ium every 5 seconds when personal-bubbles-are-not-in-my-vocabulary chic sat it on her lap!  Seriously, Madre… here’s my briefcase I brought to a concert… would you mind holding it!

The opening act?  Hunter Hayes… the 17-year-old wonder child of talent.  He had more talent in one of his hair follicles than I do in my whole dagnabbed fat flab!  I think he plays every instrument known to man and boy can sing!  Ironically, I saw him on one of the late night talk shows about 10 years ago before he was ever known to anyone.  He was like 5 years old and was singing and playing the accordion like a pro!  Imagine my non-surprise when 10+ years later he popped up as a legitimate country singing superstar!  The girls in the audience (at least those 18 years old and under) were having a swoon par-tay.  I would have joined in, except then I’d been arrested for being a disgusting old woman at a Bieber Fever concert!

To hear an excerpt of my favorite Hunter song, Wantedcheck out a recording I made… legitimately creepy old woman sauce!!

After Hunter’s set, they had an intermission while they reset up the stage for Carrie and personal-space-bubble chic took off her shirt and reapplied same shirt like it was a dressing room at Walrus Land.  Thankfully, she was wearing a tank top under… that would have just been awkward!

Carrie is legitimately classy fabulous… plus she had like 4 million costume changes (OFF STAGE PERSONAL BUBBLE SPACE CHIC), each outfit containing more sequins per square inch than Dolly Parton’s closet at Dollywood.  I’ve been to my fair share of country concerts… most of the folk (especially the men) come out dressed in a ratty old T-shirt they probably slept in the night before and holey jeans that were washed last May.  Carrie brought out the prom, yo!

I’ve mentioned this before on this blog.  But there are 3 different kinds of musical artists out there… there’s your dances-better-than he/she-sings artist, there’s your singer, and then there’s your SANGER (aka SANGS the patookus off of everything)!  Carrie is definitely a SANGER!!  And generally, I only sprout out the money to go to concerts for SANGERS!  Not that the other 2 categories don’t have good musicians/entertainment, it’s just that concerts are expensive and I have to pick my SANGING dance card.  I appreciate a great, great voice!   And it amazes me that she has such a powerful voice, having to sing at top form every night for like 2 hours… my voice would be SHOT!  I’d sound like a smoker hacking up a lung for 2 months straight after one night of that level of sanging!

I had to post this picture because of the background.  Carrie is a vegetarian (she may be a vegan), you go girl and your veggie burger sign!  I see it!  Ironically, when this came up there were several chics in the row in front of us eating cow hyde burgers… Carrie was all like… come to my place!

This was one of the cooler parts of the concert.  Carrie and 3 of her band members were on this levitating stage that traveled the length of the hockey arena.  Of course, we are gloom and doomers and Madre was sure the cables would break and we’d have a mass death on our hands!  At one point they threw out giant bouncy beach balls into the audience and then confetti rained from the ceiling… PAR-TAY!  It goes to show you how uptight I am when my first thought was… I’m glad I don’t have to clean up this mess!   I took the following video of the beach balls, the confetti, and Madre looking like she was having a blast of a time… in prison!

Super fun concert, SANGER Carrie!   Nice to meet you personal-bubble-space chic… NOT!!!  Next time we’ll put you in a sound proof booth with a hook for your backpack/brief case!

If you’re interested… here are a few excerpts I videoed from the concert!

Jesus Take the Wheel

I Told You So

And the following, Blown Away… complete with actual tornado action!

Question of the Day:  Are you a Carrie Underwear fan?  Favorite song?  

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Classy-Cal…

Wake me up when they get to the exciting part!!  Concert numero dos in my quest to become an actual civilized culturey-like human being with my Masterpieces of Music class was last Thursdee.  It was a piano recital by some Dean of Music (possibly former Dean) from Yale University.  For those unfamiliar with Yale… what the heck are you asking me for… I went to Bridgerland Applied Technology College for crying outloud!

So, this dude from Yale… some highly acclaimed pianist came to the little valley of Cache to perform a recital.  I’m sure he did other things like met with the music department, but they didn’t invite me to the luncheon so I couldn’t tell you what brought him to Hickville!

He was mega talented… no doubt about that.  His fingers moved faster over those keys than mine do trying to peel a Snickers bar (that’s fast), but I can’t say I loved the music.  Firstly, let me start with this.  I LOVE classical music and I’m very familiar with it.  I have a playlist on my iPOD full of the stuff… but this stuff was unfamiliar, obscure stuff and one of the songs sounded straight from the score of Nightmare On Elm Street… the portion where the stabbing scenes are happening.  You know the tune… SCREECH SCREECH… hails back to Psycho days.  It kind of freaked me out to be honest… especially since I was alone and there was this freaky-looking student dude who refused to sit in his seat but instead decided leaning against the railing right next to my aisle would be sufficient.  Which would have been fine and all, except he acted like he was going to urinate his pants, he was moving around so much.  It was very distracting and by the time intermission came, I was about to see if I could borrow his pocket knife to act out the Elm Street score the piano was playing.  JOKES!!!!  No one call the police… I cannot be arrested again for bad sarcasm!

Turns out I remember none of it… and now I have to write a 3-page report on stuff I’m obviously going to have to make up since I can’t describe the pee-pee dance happening in the aisle way the whole concert.  Let’s face it… that would be like the best report EVER!!

Question of the Day:  Do you play the piano?  What’s your favorite piece of classical music? 

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