blogging, rocking, and whining
September 16, 2004
ok, so at first, I have to admit I dismissed this whole blogging idea as a little too obviously self-absorbed. but as any of my friends, or really, anyone whose email address I've captured, knows, self-absorption is one of my hallmarks. the least bit of thought comes out of my head, and I have to send it out to 50 people. I'm sure, on the positive side, that I've helped give people the drive to learn about email filters.
this also gives me an out. at 35, it's gotten increasingly hard to say I want to be a writer. at 18, if you want to be a musician or writer, people are like, "cool. you'll be good at that." at 25, people are still supportive: "cool. you can totally do that." at 30, it's, "well, you're still young." at 35, however, people pause, wondering if you're serious. then they say, "uh. you're a lawyer, Rob."
but there's also a lot of people who have been incredibly supportive of my writing. it's just that I don't do so much of it. so, this'll be good practice, I'm sure. and when I start babbling to some of my friends, they can save themselves time and effort by just telling me, "yeah, read it, got it."
so, i have, despite my best efforts, been sucked into the acl maelstrom. expect lots of bitching and whining from me. no doubt, it will rain. i will itch, get bitten by ants and mosquitoes, and be annoyed at having to use stanky, muddy porta-potties. as i am now old and crotchety, many of the damned kids will surely annoy me. some of the damned rock and roll will be too loud, which is only possible if it sucks. which some of it will.
don't get me wrong - i love music, and since the time i first gained a little independent mobility (age 18), i've hit lots of outdoor shows. there was aqua fest back in the day, where i saw acts like roy orbison, sheena easton (mmm... irish prince protege...), los lobos, and even jackson brown, whose music makes me want to gnaw out my own liver.
it was also, curiously, the only place i ever saw stevie ray vaughan. i was stunned, as anyone should be. i ended up standing next to this dude in a wheelchair who was a drummer, and he was digging the show, even though he couldn't see anything at all. a few guys standing around put their beers down, and soon, this wheelchair rose up out of the crowd, treating everyone to one of the greatest air drum solos ever seen.
there were also dark times. i dated a girl that was all about the country music. i think the relationship effectively ended the day she ejected guns and roses use your illusion 1 from my cd player, flung it in the back seat, and put in randy travis. but before that critical moment, i found myself at aqua fest seeing suzy boguss, which remarkably, was not so bad. then there was sammy kershaw, who opened with "cadillac style", played it once in the middle of his set, and then again for each of his two encores. it's because of things like that they now use metal detectors and don't allow glass bottles at concerts. the coup de grace, however, was the antichrist of music: billy ray cyrus. god help me, i tried. i stood respectfully while he and his mullet belted out stupidity. then he played led zeppelin's "black dog," and i became hysterically distraught. during "achy breaky heart," i sang the music's original lyrics, "tulsa time," at the top of my voice.
i've been to willie's picnic, numerous freedom fests, even the blockbuster rockfest at the texas motor speedway in 1997. held on july 4, on the infield of a massive motorsports racetrack, over 385,000 people sweated as one stage carried a massive amount of talent, including the wallflowers, matchbox 20, jewel, paula cole, and collective soul. collective soul proved a good time for a nap, which continued into the counting crows. from time to time, my friends and i would wake up, and adam duritz would still be singing, and every time, we asked each other - is this the same damned song?
as dusk fell, people were tired and a little punchy from the heat and the lengthy collective crows onslaught. where we were, on the back track furthest from the stage, with the grandstands right behind us, people began using the lids to their lemon chills as frisbees. it was fun, carefree, just as a fourth of july music festival sponsored by a massive conservative video rental chain should be. then the occasional small plastic water bottle would plop down around us.
within half an hour, it was medieval warfare. it had turned to night, and the lights came on, and the air was completely filled with missiles, from plastic water bottles, to glass, to rocks and probably some small children. people were hiding under blankets, or returning fire. people were running around with bleeding head wounds and cuts from glass. i saw at one point a glass jar that had to hold about 2 gallons of water or, I don't know, moonshine, just miss smashing into a little kid's head.
no doubt provided the soundtrack, for a while oblivious to the melee. they were followed by bush, but at that point, we had evacuated along with anyone else that was either not a combatant, or who had run out of good ammo.
so, anyway. don't tell me i'm a wuss, because... well, because i know i am. but i've paid my rock and roll dues. i worked security at the first show of ozzy's first retirement tour. i sat on the stage and watched bob dylan. but now my knee swells a bit when i stand, and grass makes me itch, and mosquitoes seem to love my diet of cookies and pie.
whew. this blogging thing does get easy to do. time for lunch.
Posted by Rob at September 16, 2004 12:46 PM