Rave: Concert Fave

I don't usually find the need or desire to quote lines from Chris Farley movies, but there's one that comes to mind about the concert last night. "THAT WAS AWESOME." It was a great show and we even managed to hit a restaurant for dinner beforehand. We had perfect seats but now I think I'm spoiled and I'll have to sit really close for any other concerts (minus any repeat performances from Barry Manilow that Jeremy drags me to. I have no desire to see him that close up in his tight leather pants that leave nuthin' to the imagination).

But there's really nothing like actually getting hit by a stray spray of spit during a great song (uh, that is spit from the singer, not from the mostly drunk dude belting out the lyrics behind you--which is a significantly less fabulous experience). Luckily, we still have three kids left to force into Mexican slavery for any future ticket needs. Let's just say homework isn't the only thing Alex has to do now after school everyday--those pinatas ain't gonna make themselves.

We were five rows back and I was fairly confident that I could outrun the 72 year old "Security" guard and jump up on stage for a cool picture and a hiney goose, but I think Jeremy would've made me walk home so he wouldn't have to be seen with me. So I had to settle for rather generic, poorly lit shots I managed to take during the frenzied singing and dancing. There was a bunch of freak-shows in the audience I could've spent all night long taking pictures of, but I was trying not to get distracted.

However, I did take some of the band because they were cracking us up. We had an hour long debate about whether the *Jim Carey in Dumb and Dumber lookalike* keyboard and soundguy was blind or not. He wore his sunglasses for a few minutes then ditched them and we realized his eyes were closed for 90% of the show. We decided 'no' to being blind, but it turns out he just feels the music sort of Helen Keller style.

And his drummer and singer guy we nicknamed Sancho had this funny garden Gnome doing the Power to the People fist raise and he kept rubbing and holding up the little guy. Sancho would stand perfectly still when he wasn't playing, with his arms crossed and this totally straight face and sunglasses. He was wearing this weird scarf/Mexican tablecloth tied around his neck and had small black braid extensions that were halfway down his back. Jeremy thought he looked like some sort of Middle Eastern terrorist--but when he was introduced we found out he's "half Latin, half African-American" and then something about the fact he has so much rhythm it leaves a stain. Yeah, I don't really think I want to know about all that.

You can see Jim Carey in the background of this shot with his giant sunglasses and bowl cut, sort of hiding behind Sancho's garden gnome on the table. There was also a guitar player that resembled a chubby George Clooney, but he kept hiding in the dark shadows all night so I couldn't get a good picture of him. Or it really was George Clooney and he was ashamed of all the extra weight he's packed on since his Ocean's 13 days. 50-50 odds on that one. OK, maybe 70-30.

We were forced to commit carbonated adultery. I'm still ashamed. That's all I'll say about that.

I have a confession. I have an almost uncontrollable desire to goose people's buns--especially in crowded places and even buns attached to people I don't know. So I really had to resist this urge on the entire walk to our car with this view.
It must be hereditary--I can remember Jeremy and I being simultaneously goosed by my cousin Micah and her husband in the middle of the BYU bookstore when we were in college. We didn't even see them coming. Who can resist a good surprise goosing on an unsuspecting victim? This is also my way of giving warning to all of you that I may strike at any moment.

And uh, yeah, there are also some negative social side effects of my condition and apparently it's highly hereditary from mother to child. Alex got sent to the office for goosing a girl in the first grade last year and written up for sexual harassment. He didn't even know what that meant, nor should he, but he's all "my mom pinches my hiney all the time." Whoops.

The concert got out at about my normal bedtime but we still had about a 45 minute drive home. We passed this car with the most GIANT TV screen playing rap music videos to an empty backseat. It was about the size of my computer monitor and was somehow suspended from the ceiling. I guess the guy driving was watching the reflection from his back window in his rear view mirror? Sounds safe.

By the time I got home, signed folders, made lunches for the kids, and got into bed and finally fell asleep, I was down to way fewer hours of sleep than normal, but it was totally worth it. Did we enjoy the concert?And muchas thanks to the village it took to get various kids to and from a soccer game, showered, fed, and into bed so we could enjoy the night out.