Louis, Louis, Oh Oh I Love You So

(Yes, I know that was lame, but I don’t care.)
AKA Our Concert Experiences Part 2
AKA We Love Brian. A LOT.

Ah, Louis. All day I was filled with joyful anticipation over seeing you. It had been far too long; years, in fact, since our last encounter. But since this is a blog post and not a romance novel, I will switch back to my usual voice.

The last time I saw Louis XIV live I was newly pregnant with my son. (His first concert, awesome!) He will turn two next month. So I was ripe for a good rock show.

I had to work that day, which normally would be a really good distraction, but as the hours ticked away my nerves only got worse. (I would make the most horrible junkie…) By the time I got home I was totally on edge.

Doors opened at the Roxy at 7 and the show was supposed to start at 7:30. I wanted to leave the house by 6 – that would have given us plenty of time to get to the Roxy, get parked and possibly even get something to eat before the show.

Ha.

I should have known the plan was long gone when we were leaving the house at 6:30 and I asked my husband if he remembered how to get to there.

“Uh, yeah.”

The babysitter laughed. Hello foreshadowing!

Around 7 we got lost. We were only halfway there when Jim decided to “take a more direct route.”

Ok, see, unlike most major metropolitan areas, Atlanta was NOT built on a grid system. It’s built on a system that closely resembles an MC Escher painting that has been attacked by a Jackson Pollock painting and then spun haphazardly in a teacup ride before all the paint dried. So we can’t just turn down a side street and retrace our steps back to where we went wrong.

I tried so hard to be cool. Jim got frustrated and started to do some uh… aggressive driving. I got more nervous. Amazingly enough, I kept my mouth shut. (I know, I have no idea how I did it, either.) I silently started to pray “please let us get there safely, please let us get there safely.” Some show is infinitely better than no show. After a few seemingly endless minutes, Jim got his bearings and his driving normalized. I changed my mantra to “please let them start later than 7:30.”

We pulled into the parking lot at exactly 7:30. I gave Jim all kinds of credit. We hustled to the door only to freakin’ wait. Damn all ages shows and their over 21 bracelet requirements!

We probably waited for less than a minute, but still. After our little detour I was done with the waiting. Finally, a perfectly kind, unhurried man checked my ID, gave me a bracelet and we were in. Finally.

And

no

one

was

on

stage.

YES!

We made a beeline for the bar where I explained my prayers to Jim and said “Yay God!” right there in front of the super cool bartender. Jim gave me the standard “I married a nut job” look and kept going. (Side note: my “Yay God!” was overheard by some very new wave looking people. I was un-phased. If they love Louis like I do, then they get it.)

Drinks in hand, we moved into the theater area and waited for the show to begin.

First reminder of the evening of why I am so glad I married Jim:

“Hey, isn’t that Mark?”

Oh, how I love this man.

Yes, it was Mark. He and some guys (later revealed as the violin and viola players) tinkered on stage, then disapeared.

Some guys behind us told their girlfriends how they first met at the last Louis show at the Roxy. Awwwwww.

Finally, the lights dimmed. I took a step forward and held my breath. The guys came onstage and the show started. I exhaled. This feeling washed over me that this was exactly where I was supposed to be.

The drums sounded absolutely amazing. By the second song I could feel them throbbing in my veins. Oh how I have missed good, live music.

The music was think and rich. The strings added a nice dimension that made it sound fuller, more luscious. I let it all sink into me and thought “I have got to find more concerts to go to.”

They played some of my favorites and a few new songs, which sounded great. At one point they had the crowd chanting with them “2, 4, 6, 8, who do we appreciate? LOUIS!” and then the second time around “me me me me me!”

The set was incredible. Jim leaned down a few times to tell me that he thought they sounded great. That the strings took their live performances to a new level. I was impressed. This is a man who primarily listens to Tool and Merle Haggard. And that was reminder number two of why I am so glad I married him.

Sadly, the set came to an end. But it’s ok because LXIV took me to a state of bliss that I floated on for the rest of the night and several days afterward.

Jim and I hung out and crowd watched between sets and picked a new, less crowded spot for Hot Hot Heat. Now I must confess: in my world, HHH is not really on the radar. If they’re playing, cool, but otherwise I’m not likely to put in any special effort. So as HHH started, my brain was somewhere else, replaying the Louis XIV set.

Where LXIV was lush and rich HHH sounded muddy and was getting on my nerves. (Which honestly could have been because we were right in line with a huge speaker.) So we moved further back. About halfway through HHH's attempt to kill my bliss Jim ducked out to go to the bathroom. I followed him and waited in the bar area.

As I waited I was scanning the crowd for Brian. Just before Jim came back I spotted Jason. There was too much space and too many people between us for me to try to catch him without looking like an ass. And I so did not want to look like an ass in front of Jason so I just let him go.

A minute or so later Jim came back. He said “Jason is out there. I stopped and said hi and told him I loved their set.”

Ladies and gentlemen, reason number three.

We decided that HHH actually sounded better from the bar area than in the theater so we stayed in the bar. And I kept an eagle eye on Jason. A line had formed to talk to him so I figured I’d just wait where I was.

After about three songs I decided to make my way over. Only to be cut off by these two super chatty, possibly drunk, 40ish guys in Hawaiian shirts. Whatever.

I went back by Jim to wait some more. Another line formed. HHH’s set ended. These guys stood there and gabbed forever. People who wanted to see The Editors were waving as they walked by cause they couldn’t get a word in edgewise. These guys seriously compromised my bliss.

Finally, about two songs into The Editors, the crowd parted. Just as Jason was about to make a break for it I tugged on his elbow. He turned and smiled. I leaned in to get right by his ear.

“You hung out with a friend of mine the other night. She said she brought you guys cookies.”

THANKS FOR THE LINE, AMES!!!

He leaned back, smiled and said “yeah! We ate them. They were good!” (Nice baking my friend.)

We talked a little bit more, (ok, I flirted my ass off and he humored me) and I asked where Brian was. He told me he wasn’t sure, but gave me some ideas. I asked for a picture and he said of course. We proceed to take this little gem.

{I call it Self portrait with Diablo Jason.}

My bliss was officially back.

I asked Jason to please tell Brian I said "hi" just in case I couldn’t find him and then we parted. I went back to my husband with a HUGE grin on my face.

Reason #4: He totally got that I needed a (semi) private moment with Jason and he was completely nonplussed by the kooky look on my face.

At this point I turned my attention to The Editors. They sounded alright so we went back into the theater. (Again, I plead LXIV bliss bias.) Over all, I liked their set but they had this light thing going on and every song or so I got a huge spot right in my eyes. It kinda detracted from what would have otherwise been a pretty cool light effect.

The same thing was happening to Jim and giving him a headache. Plus, neither of us had eaten since lunch time so we decided to get The Editors CD and headed out to the IHOP (sort of) across the street from the Roxy. We took the scenic route so that I could cruise by the bus.

No one was outside so we continued on to IHOP. The whole time we were there I was thinking about the show and my talk with Jason. I must have looked like a complete lunatic.

When we left the IHOP it looked like The Editors had wrapped it up because a lot of people were coming out of the Roxy. It was really cold so rather than walk back down behind the club we decided to drive by the buses. I saw some girls hanging out, but no LXIV’s. I felt my bliss start to fade a bit at the idea of leaving without seeing Brian.

But just as we cleared the third bus, who did we see walking toward us?

BRIAN!

By some quirk of fate, there was a parking space literally RIGHT THERE. Jim pulled into the space and I hopped out of the car and tried not to run to Brian. (Traffic and not looking like an ass and all that.)

He was talking to some girls who were just adorable and looked cold and nervous. Seriously, girls, there is no need to be nervous around Brian. This is probably the nicest rock star you will ever meet.

Now before I continue I have to tell you something about Brian. He has this huge, amazing, million watt smile. When he smiles his entire face lights up. And if he smiles at you, it’s like you’ve won the lottery. I love making Brian smile. (Not that it’s hard to do.)

Anyway.

I intended to wait my turn but Brian, still talking to the girls, saw me walk over. He looked at me and hesitated for a second and then shouted “Elaine!” accompanied by one of his huge smiles.

Hello bliss.

He opened his arms for a hug which, of course, I gave him. I felt bad for the interrupting the girls, but I gushed. I couldn’t help it. Call it bliss overflow.

I was so thrilled and surprised that Brian remembered me (even if Ames did give him a bit of a memory jog a few nights before). He said it had been too long, which of course I agreed with. It had been way too long. He, always the thoughtful host, turned back to the girls and asked their names. He introduced me to them as his friend.

In that moment I forgot just how damn cold it was and thought about how my face was probably about to crack open from my huge smile.

We all talked some more. The girls had car trouble and got lost on their way to the show. We commiserated over our Jackson Pollock-esque maps of the city.

Brian decided it was time to get back on the bus, (have I mentioned that it was fucking cold?) and invited us all to join him, but I really needed to relieve our babysitter so I wrapped things up. (All this time Jim had been waiting in the car for me.) We took pictures and I gushed some more, sorry Brian! And then, awesomeness.

I told Brian that if they ever decided that they needed a full time tambourine player, that I could do that job. His response:

“You’re our girl!”

Score! I can finally get on a rock tour without some nasty offer to be the designated groupie or band-aid or whatever. Yes! This was probably one of my all time favorite moments. I love Brian.

We chatted for another second – seriously, if anyone has a cure for gushing please fill me in – and said good-bye. As I walked back to the car Brian turned and shouted “Love to Ames!”

You gotta love Brian.

P.S. Ames, they ate cookies out of your box.

Part One of Two: Our Louis XIV Show Experiences

...a.k.a. We love Brian...

In the grand tradition of the rockchicks, we are going to tell everyone about our trips to Louis XIV shows.  I will start, since my show was on Tuesday and Elaine's was on Friday.  Here goes...

My husband and I got there pretty early.  There was one person ahead of us in line.  The line grew and grew.  I stood there with a plastic container of choc. chip cookies I had made the guys. I saw Brian after we were waiting for about half an hour.  I ran over, gave him a quick hug and gave him the cookies.  He said, "You rock, Ames!!"  (I know, I know...sad...but I figure they don't get much homemade food on tour, and cookies count as homemade food, right?)  Anyway...they finally open the doors and for the first time in my life, I am on "the list."  I've never been on "the list."  

But I'm not on the list.

The Russian bouncer/douchebag at the door gruffly tells me, "You are not on the list."  

Gahhhhh!!  

So, I'm near tears.  The line is REALLLLLLLLY long at this point.  We go...to the end.  There is another door at the end of the line that is made of glass.  I peer in, and there are the boys, up on stage.  I tap on the door and another bouncer (who probably thinks I'm psycho, but who the hell cares?) answers, looking at me like I'm a nutjob.  I yell at the guys over the bouncer's shoulder.  (yeah, I did.)

"Brian!  I'm not on the list!!"

Brian, looking shocked, (and slightly amused that I managed to finagle past the bouncer) says, "You are!  I promise!"  Jason, strumming his guitar, adds, "You are.  I saw it.  It was there." (found that pretty amusing in spite of my panic.)

OK.  So, we go up to the front of the line, and a nicer woman in obscenely small shorts (once you are over 38 or so, shorts that tiny should be outlawed) tells me that the list they have is for the Editors, not the other two bands.  Ohhh, OK.  Still sucked, but not the end of the world. So, we waited while what seemed like 900 people go in before us.  I watched them open the doors inside to where the stage was, and saw my front row prospects go out the window.  

Finally, we get in.  I look everywhere for the guys, with no luck.  Show starts.  We did wind up very close to the stage, and I ended up standing next to a badass girl who knew all the words and was rockin' out too.  Very Cool.  They played an AWESOME set.  Old stuff, new stuff, violins, pounding drums, wailing guitars, Jason and Brian and the gang just up there having a great time and sipping red wine between songs.  I did get *slightly* perturbed when he was bantering to the crowd and said that it was their first time in Florida.  I'm sure alcohol contributed to the slight slip-up.  At least he got the city right and didn't say, like..."Hello, Cleveland!" or something.  

After the show, I hung around anxiously waiting to see the guys.  We waited.  and waited.  and waited.

and waited.

No sign of the guys.  I know they usually come out and hang after the show and mingle.  No luck.  I was starting to get really bummed out.  Finally, my husband and I left the club.  Hot Hot Heat had started playing and there was still not a sign of the boys.  We walked out to the car and I was devastated.  I couldn't leave without saying goodbye!!!  Let alone hello!!  So, I decided to give it one more shot.  We walked back to the door.  We stand there and more people are coming in (the IDIOTS that missed the Louis set.  losers!!)  and the douchebag at the door just ignores us.  Suddenly, my husband says, "There's Jason!"  

Jason was sauntering up past the people in line, from the glass door.  Some chick starts talking to him.   I tell my husband out of the side of my mouth, "He is NOT getting back into the club..."  I repeat the mantra, because I really wanted to say goodbye to Brian before we left.  He starts back into the club and I jump out.  "Hey!!"  He instantly recognizes me and smiles.  I show him my tattoo, which the guys have yet to see in person.  He is stoked.  We take a photo.   I look like a bloated, beached whale, but Jason looks great.  I ask him where Brian is, because we can't stay long and I want to say good bye.  He points us around to the alley and tells us to knock on the tour bus.   Umm...Ohhhhhhh-Kay.

We walk around, and the guys (Awesome, sweet, happy Mark and ever-serious Jimmy, who seems to hate my guts with a fire of a thousand suns) are loading their amps and drums and such into the bus.  (Mark's sparkly drum set is so damn cool, did I mention that?) We stand there.  And wait.  And wait.  I felt really kind of stupid, like I was some random groupie. FINALLY, out comes Brian.  I hear him say, "Where's my friend Amy?!"  I call out, and we finally get to hang out with Brian.  Yay Brian.

OK, warning: about to geek out.  **I FINALLY MADE IT ON TO THE TOUR BUS!**  We went on the bus and I took a photo.  You can see my cookies in the picture.  lol.  We hang out for about 20 minutes, chatting with Brian and Mark and the violin guy and such.  I'm ridiculously happy.

We exit the bus a while later, stickers and posters in hand, which added to the poster I stole off the wall of the club.  We hang out with Brian for another half an hour outside.  Mark comes back out and gives us both (my husband and I) a hug.  Love Mark.  We chat some more.  We talk about our iphones, the new album, the Vegas show, Brian's chick, Brian's hair, the baby, etc. 

It was the best night I've had in a LOOOOONG time.  I can't say enough how nice the guys in Louis XIV are.  They are a great band with freakin' fantastic music, and they are ALWAYS so gracious and welcoming and funny and sweet.  Especially Brian.  Brian, if you are reading this, you are one of my favorite people on the planet.   

I CAN'T WAIT FOR MARCH!  THE ROCKCHICKS WILL BE BACK, BABY!  HAHHHH!  

Here are my photos.  I was going to photoshop myself out of the one with Jason, but oh well:  

Mrs. big boobs & Jason

On the tour bus.  Yay.

See the cookies?

What a cool guy.

My Most Favorite News Article This Week

Came across this on Yahoo News... ahhhh capitalism.

FBI wiretaps dropped due to unpaid bills
By LARA JAKES JORDAN, Associated Press

Telephone companies have cut off FBI wiretaps used to eavesdrop on suspected criminals because of the bureau's repeated failures to pay phone bills on time.

A Justice Department audit released Thursday blamed the lost connections on the FBI's lax oversight of money used in undercover investigations. Poor supervision of the program also allowed one agent to steal $25,000, the audit said.

In at least one case, a wiretap used in a Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act investigation "was halted due to untimely payment," the audit found. FISA wiretaps are used in the government's most sensitive and secretive criminal investigations, and allow eavesdropping on suspected terrorists or spies.

"We also found that late payments have resulted in telecommunications carriers actually disconnecting phone lines established to deliver surveillance results to the FBI, resulting in lost evidence," according to the audit by Inspector General Glenn A. Fine.

More than half of 990 bills to pay for telecommunication surveillance in five unidentified FBI field offices were not paid on time, the report shows. In one office alone, unpaid costs for wiretaps from one phone company totaled $66,000.

The FBI did not have an immediate comment.

The report released Thursday was a highly edited version of Fine's 87-page audit that the FBI deemed too sensitive to be viewed publicly. It focused on what the FBI admitted was an "antiquated" system to track money sent to its 56 field offices nationwide for undercover work. Generally, the money pays for rental cars, leases and surveillance, the audit noted.

It also found that some field offices paid for expenses on undercover cases that should have been financed by FBI headquarters. Out of 130 undercover payments examined, auditors found 14 cases of at least $6,000 each where field offices dipped into their own budgets to pay for work that should have been picked up by headquarters.

The faulty bookkeeping was blamed, in large part, in the case of an FBI agent who pleaded guilty in June 2006 to stealing $25,000 for her own use, the audit noted.

"As demonstrated by the FBI employee who stole funds intended to support undercover activities, procedural controls by themselves have not ensured proper tracking and use of confidential case funds," it concluded.

Fine's report offered 16 recommendations to improve the FBI's tracking and management of the funding system, including its telecommunication costs. The FBI has agreed to follow 11 of the suggestions but said that four "would be either unfeasible or too cost prohibitive." The recommendations were not specifically outlined in the edited version of the report.

Awesome Article from Today's NY Times

Oh, and GO OBAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

January 4, 2008
Op-Ed Columnist

The Two Earthquakes
By DAVID BROOKS

Ottumwa, Iowa
I’ve been through election nights that brought a political earthquake to the country. I’ve never been through an election night that brought two.

Barack Obama has won the Iowa caucuses. You’d have to have a heart of stone not to feel moved by this. An African-American man wins a closely fought campaign in a pivotal state. He beats two strong opponents, including the mighty Clinton machine. He does it in a system that favors rural voters. He does it by getting young voters to come out to the caucuses.

This is a huge moment. It’s one of those times when a movement that seemed ethereal and idealistic became a reality and took on political substance.

Iowa won’t settle the race, but the rest of the primary season is going to be colored by the glow of this result. Whatever their political affiliations, Americans are going to feel good about the Obama victory, which is a story of youth, possibility and unity through diversity — the primordial themes of the American experience.

And Americans are not going to want to see this stopped. When an African-American man is leading a juggernaut to the White House, do you want to be the one to stand up and say No?
Obama has achieved something remarkable. At first blush, his speeches are abstract, secular sermons of personal uplift — filled with disquisitions on the nature of hope and the contours of change.

He talks about erasing old categories like red and blue (and implicitly, black and white) and replacing them with new categories, of which the most important are new and old. He seems at first more preoccupied with changing thinking than changing legislation.

Yet over the course of his speeches and over the course of this campaign, he has persuaded many Iowans that there is substance here as well. He built a great organization and produced a tangible victory.

He’s made Hillary Clinton, with her wonkish, pragmatic approach to politics, seem uninspired. He’s made John Edwards, with his angry cries that “corporate greed is killing your children’s future,” seem old-fashioned. Edwards’s political career is probably over.

Obama is changing the tone of American liberalism, and maybe American politics, too.
On the Republican side, my message is: Be not afraid. Some people are going to tell you that Mike Huckabee’s victory last night in Iowa represents a triumph for the creationist crusaders. Wrong.

Huckabee won because he tapped into realities that other Republicans have been slow to recognize. First, evangelicals have changed. Huckabee is the first ironic evangelical on the national stage. He’s funny, campy (see his Chuck Norris fixation) and he’s not at war with modern culture.

Second, Huckabee understands much better than Mitt Romney that we have a crisis of authority in this country. People have lost faith in their leaders’ ability to respond to problems. While Romney embodies the leadership class, Huckabee went after it. He criticized Wall Street and K Street. Most importantly, he sensed that conservatives do not believe their own movement is well led. He took on Rush Limbaugh, the Club for Growth and even President Bush. The old guard threw everything they had at him, and their diminished power is now exposed.

Third, Huckabee understands how middle-class anxiety is really lived. Democrats talk about wages. But real middle-class families have more to fear economically from divorce than from a free trade pact. A person’s lifetime prospects will be threatened more by single parenting than by outsourcing. Huckabee understands that economic well-being is fused with social and moral well-being, and he talks about the inter-relationship in a way no other candidate has.
In that sense, Huckabee’s victory is not a step into the past. It opens up the way for a new coalition.

A conservatism that recognizes stable families as the foundation of economic growth is not hard to imagine. A conservatism that loves capitalism but distrusts capitalists is not hard to imagine either. Adam Smith felt this way. A conservatism that pays attention to people making less than $50,000 a year is the only conservatism worth defending.

Will Huckabee move on and lead this new conservatism? Highly doubtful. The past few weeks have exposed his serious flaws as a presidential candidate. His foreign policy knowledge is minimal. His lapses into amateurishness simply won’t fly in a national campaign.

So the race will move on to New Hampshire. Mitt Romney is now grievously wounded. Romney represents what’s left of Republicanism 1.0. Huckabee and McCain represent half-formed iterations of Republicanism 2.0. My guess is Republicans will now swing behind McCain in order to stop Mike.

Huckabee probably won’t be the nominee, but starting last night in Iowa, an evangelical began the Republican Reformation