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September 13, 2011

Rumor and calendar claim full moon, but I have yet to see it to howl.

Tired of weather talk.

Alt office is nearly sold out; missing sitting w/ tea + magazines.

With the Joan Jett concert on the schedule, I have been reviewing concerts I have seen.  There was Live Aid, but since I enjoy neither loud nor crowds, I must admit my mother made me go, pulling both the supervise my siblings and ONCE IN A LIFETIME EVENT cards.  I brought a book for the slow times (not many), earplugs, enjoyed the Hooters, let my sister sit on my shoulders so she could have a better view of Duran Duran, fell in love with Robert Plant’s voice which led to being schooled on Led Zepplin by my brother the music fanatic (only song I really retain is Fool in The Rain; it reminds me of me), which led to the Robert Plant concert with a surprise appearance by Jimmy Page and a lot of Honeydrippers songs.

There was a Cure concert with multiple large screen special effects, a “Let’s Go To Bed” encore and a t-shirt with the lyrics to a song I don’t remember that I wore ’til it turned transparent.  Depeche Mode, don’t really remember, but that may be because I’ve worn out their albums and transferred them whole to that memory slot.  Wham, Katrina and The Waves opening.  My sister was also a Wham fan.  She got annoyed when I made her leave early because we were supposed to meet my Dad.

kd lang at the Garden State Arts Center, me lying in the grass somewhere I think, listening to “What’s New Pussycat”.  Roberta Peters opening her mouth and throat and letting a songbird out to travel around the theatre.  Indigo Girls earnest in a big gym.  Meatloaf, the second time?, with a twenty foot inflatable woman on stage.  My buddy Jeremy’s last performance of his band No Love Lost, him and his bass against a red brick wall and me going home to paint that.  Rosemary Clooney and her still amazing voice after a hot sweaty Chicago summer.  Escorting my mother to see Art Garfunkel on a casino stage, still so many things to talk + kvetch about.

Kingsfoil on the floor below me in a bank repurposed as an vintage clothing store/art gallery as I sold a painting to a friend with less money than me for $5.  Oh and that full of wonder + awe birthday when Northwestern threw a day long party for me (of course) with Armadillo Day on the Lakefill. I listened to reggae in the sun for hours + then went inside the concert hall to be awestruck by Bach’s Mass in B Minor.

I’ve been in the mood to go to another concert for awhile.  Time for a new story.

How about you?  Drop a concert story in the comments.  Let’s talk music.

And now, I’m going to find a moon to at which to howl ; )

One Comment
  1. Jeremy permalink

    🙂 we were back from England for Easter, just the three of us played. It was the last time I played in earnest with my brother.

    My first concert was Robert Plant on the Now and Zen tour at Hershey Park Stagium in ’88. It was supposed to be on Saturday but it rained and they played Sunday instead. WTPA had a giveaway for a Robert Plant/ 93.5 T-shirt if you showed them a sign with the station name on it. We wrote it on an index card, pinned it to my shirt. My Dad grabbed me by the armpits and raced me across the parking lot to the van as it sped toward the crowded entrance. They stopped and gave me a shirt. I was 6. Robert Plant mentioned the show and the rain cancellation when he opened for the Who 14 years later.

    My second concert was Page and Plant in 94 at the spectrum. They played Lullaby by the Cure. I was floored.

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