We went to see Dark Star Orchestra at the 930 club in DC on Friday night. They’re a Grateful Dead cover band that plays the exact same setlist as a previous real Dead show. “But, Gary,” you must be thinking, “you’ve never been into the Grateful Dead. What the fuck?” Well, granted, I’ve never… but she is, and that’s the way it goes. Apparently, we were treated to the 10/22/1983 Carrier Dome (Syracuse U), Syracuse, NY show after almost dying eighteen times on the way because some fucking dude was driving like a maniac to impress some chick from NYC who came down for the show. Before we left, I asked him to not kill us on the way home. “Dude, I’m the sober one,” he said. “Dude, and you were sober driving up here, just don’t drive like a fucking cock on the way home like you did on the way, alright?” I guess he got my point, because he was almost gentlemanly on the way home. That guy’s on my shit list, again, still, forever probably.
Some observations about that show and the crowd: Believe it or not, people at the metal shows are actually more considerate than those at Dead (or Dead coverband) shows. I can’t count the number of times someone bust through the crowd without acknowledging that they’d just jostled me or my girl. At least the metalheads will say, “excuse me” or “sorry, bro” or at least give the knowing look and nod of “my bad, dude”. The hippies were just kinda’ rude on the whole.
That’s like the entire opposite of what you would think if you sat down and pondered it. I have a theory about this phenomenon: At the metal shows, there are some huge, scary motherfuckers. You bust through and make more than socially-acceptible physical contact, you’re going to turn around and apologize before you even see who it is you’ve bumped into. Perpetuation of life, and shit like that. At a “hippy” show, everyone’s all about peace, weed, and “noodling”. So if you bump into one of them, then they won’t even notice, as they’re as high, if not higher, than you are; so apologies are unnecessary. This must be what’s running through peoples’ minds at these shows. As for me, I bump, I apologize sincerely, make sure shit’s on the level, then move on… regardless of the tenor of the show.
At one point, one of the more curteous fans was trying to squeeze between me and others, and actually said, “excuse me”… to which I responded, “sorry, bro” and made room… except the person just stopped moving and looked at me. “Did you just call me ‘bro’?” Then I notice… it’s a woman. “Oh, fuck, my bad…” followed by inept attempts at rectifying my embarrassment. I really thought she was a guy, though.
Saturday night, a group of us went to dinner, then headed out to see “Elf” starring Will Ferrell. It’s a pretty cute movie. There are a couple of times when you’ll actually laugh-out-loud, but the cheese factor is pretty high, and I think it tries too hard to be an emotionally-fulfilling Xmas movie. Faith and true love conquer all… shit like that. So unlike Will. Anyway, if you go to see it (and you should, as $8.50 is worth the 90 minutes you get), leave the fucking children at home. This is not a kids’ movie, despite it being rated PG. Your kids aren’t going to get it, they’ll just get bored and start talking loudly right behind some guy who hates people speaking loudly during movies, like me. Trust me on this one.
This post is way too long. After the movie, we saw a local cover band that was mediocre at best, but we got to play a lot of free pool, and the beer was cheap. Metro rules. Today was a lazy day involving mostly sleep and pushing the dog off the bed. She’s cute and all, but opportunistic like a motherfucker. Throw in a bit of house hunting, Taco Bell and football on TV, and you get a pretty satisfying, relaxing Sunday.