Snotting black

You have to be good to earn hair like the King.

I paid money for and attended a concert last night. This was unusual. Normally I listen to songs on YouTube until I’ve memorized 80% of the words and find someone who has the CD, if that even happens, then I don’t go to the concerts.

I’m a music fan but not a fanatic, which is why I always feel slightly awkward around crazy music people, the ones who are oblivious to other passions and clearly imagine that living in thrall to music is the most noble life. According to them, everyone else either feels the same way or is a dirt bag.

That makes me a dirt bag because I don’t love going to concerts unless I know all of the songs and/or there’s going to be crazy dancing. Last night was a perfect example of what happens at the kind of concert I don’t enjoy.

The local band (hint: unknown songs) started playing and the audience approached the stage from the darkness, drawn towards the musicians but fearing to leave the shadows and step into the stage lights. Most men in the audience were bearded, about 25% were wearing some kind of flannel, and there were too many whimsical patters to count.

The most important thing about this crowd, however, is that its 8:15 dance of choice was to stand and watch with the occasional head bob. In other words, they were a bunch of boring stiffs. Literally, their bodies were stiff like corpses and I wanted to shout at them, “Move! Move your bodies or you shall lose your souls!”

Instead I invented new dance movies, including the slow-mo kiss blow and twiddling my thumbs to the music high in the air. Why the others didn’t join me, I’ll never know. The first band finished their set, and the crowd gave up a “too-cool-to get-excited-about-anything” cheer.

The second band and their hair appeared on stage.

According to our backstage informer, the crew had just gotten hair cuts that allowed them to literally outshine and outpoof everyone else. Their long hairs had been trimmed short on the sides and swept up on top to make a glossy pillow of hair that added a half foot to their total height.  The hair pillows were mesmerizing and by far my favorite part of their performance. As they jerked and jumped to the music, their ridiculous hair-dos also jostled around but somehow always found their way back home.

Their music didn’t have a chance when compared to the hair. In fact, they could have jumped on a trampoline for thirty minutes and I would have enjoyed watching them just as much. The highlight of the night was probably right before the concert started when we found an awesome parking spot that was close by. More on that later.

This concert only whetted my appetite for screaming and thrashing movements (singing and dancing.) I need to go to a cover band show ASAP.