(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.”
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.
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.
“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.
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