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Balance
"I promised I'd go."
I had to keep telling myself that.
"I promised I'd go."
That mantra got me out of the house Saturday night to go to "The Big Dance". A friend of mine, GregM, and his band were headliners at The Big Dance. Weeks earlier GregM had asked me to take pictures of the band for their website. Of course I was glad to help out anyway I could... In theory. The photography, that I'm happy to provide. Spending Saturday night listening to golden oldies-- eh, not so much.
The Big Dance is just not my kind of thing. I don't care for beach music, and watching a bunch of folks "shag" is just plain annoying. At one point, a crowd of dancers started this boot-scootin'-shag-line-dancing thing. That sight almost made me convulse, but I had a job to do, even though the music was making me less than social.
About the time the Drifters began playing "A Double Shot o' My Baby's Love", GregM's wife, Jane came over to start up a conversation. We were right beside the speakers and couldn't hear each other if our lives depended on it. The conversation went something like this:
Jane: shouting inaudibly "HEY MARK! HOW'S IT GOING?"
ME: in normal voice, knowing damn good and well she couldn't hear me... "My ears are bleeding."
Jane: nodding "GREAT! HOW'S LESLIE?"
ME: "Better off than me. I bet you can't hear a word I'm saying can you?"
Jane: "GOOD! TELL HER I SAID HELLO. GREAT NIGHT FOR MUSIC."
Me: nodding in agreement "An even better night to jab sharp pencils in my ears. I think a couple of number twos would do the trick nicely. Hey, does my breath stink? My mouth feels like I've been eating burnt hair."
Jane: "I THINK THEY'RE GOING ON AT 10:45."
ME: pointing to my camera "I guess I got to get busy. I want to be outta here as soon as I possibly can."
Jane: "YEAH, I BETTER LET YOU GET TO WORK. GOOD TALKING TO YA."
Me: "Yep. Nice beaver to you too... Next time bring ham."
She walks back to her table and I continue shooting. Maybe I was being mean, but it was all in fun and kept me sane. Besides, knowing her, she probably felt the same way I did about the whole "shindig".
Another fun moment happened when the frontman for The Tams asked the audience if there were "...any Parrotheads in the audience?" Of course the crowd claps, hollers and woots. If you know me, you know I'm anything but a fan of Jimmy Buffet. Anyway, the band cranks in with their rendition of "Margaritaville".
The crowd goes apeshit.
Halfway through the song the band starts with a break beat and begins hip-hop rapping the lyrics.
The crowd dies down. The band is committing a crime. A sacrilege of epic proportions. It was great fun to watch. I was fully expecting to see a Confederate flag pop up in the distance at any moment.
Soon, The Tams finished their set, and GregM's band goes on stage. They're the hometown favorite. They are playing their requisite hits-- "Unchained Melody" and "I Love Beach Music". The crowd goes wild. "Wild" in that frothy, liquored up, let my hair down, gonna get me some tonight, kinda way.
I continued to shoot.
Finally, I figure I'm done. I got the shots I need.
While the band continues to play, I load up and head out to my MidLife Crisis Mobile.
I get in, drop the top, and pop in the most hardcore CD I have.
Driving home, frigid, listening to Rob Zombie scream "I Can Never Die" at 90 miles an hour seemed to balance things back out.
Yeah, I'm now fourty and fightin' it.
2/14/2005 09:58:00 AM
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