Inane Chatter

I already knew this, but now that I’ve been to a concert, I feel the need to say it again: Bruce Springsteen is not for me.  John and I went to the Springsteen concert in DC on Friday night.  Wait – I need to back up.  A few years back, John went to his first Bruce concert with a few friends of ours who are rabid fans.  I mean, these guys know every song he’s ever recorded, have all the albums, always go to concerts when Springsteen is on tour.  That stuff doesn’t make them rabid fans.  No, they go to as many concerts on each tour that they can manage, sometimes traveling miles and miles to go to back to back shows in three different cities.  Friday’s concert was the sixth show our buddy Joe has gone to on this tour alone.  On top of that, they know the set lists of practically every concert he’s ever played ever.  It’s not unusual to have a conversation with one of them that goes like this:

Hey, I kinda like song X from that one album.

Yeah, that’s a great song, but you won’t hear that when we go to this concert.  He hasn’t played that one live since the Evanston show of 1993.  Now THAT was a great show.

Anyway, John was just a casual fan before he went to that show (he’s more than that now, but hasn’t reach rabid levels of fandom yet) .  These guys (and every Springsteen fan I’ve talked to since) told him he HAS to go to a live show, it’s AWESOME, it’s an experience you’ll never get anywhere else – it’s just amazing.  So John went, and it was great.  He had a really good time, it was a really great show, and he started paying more attention to the Boss.  That’s fine – doesn’t bother me one bit.  He went to a couple more shows over the next couple of years, and I had to suffer through a little more Springsteen in the house, but that’s not that big a deal.  Then this tour started, and the guys got together and decided to all go.  John really wanted me to get in on this, and I’d been hearing how great these shows are, so I agreed and we bought two tickets.

I have to admit to not being all that excited as the date approached.  I love live music, and I knew I’d have a good time, but I didn’t prep for it.  I know a handful of songs (“Glory Days”, “Born in the USA”, “Dancing in the Dark”), and I recognize a few more but don’t know more than a couple lines from them (“Born to Run”, “Thunder Road”), but that’s it.  Frankly, I don’t really like his stuff, so prepping didn’t sound appealing at all.  Why listen to more of what I don’t like?  I was counting on the LIVE aspect of the show to be more entertaining than his depressing and repetitive songs.

Ultimately?  It was fun, but I’m in no hurry to go again.  It was loud and crowded (both in a good way) and energetic and everything, and all of that is cool and fun to watch, but it was still Bruce Springsteen, and you know what?  I still don’t like Bruce Springsteen.  Well, personally, I’m sure he’s a fun guy.  I don’t like his songs.  When the band did some covers (“Devil in a Blue Dress”, “Twist and Shout”) at the end of the almost four-hour concert, I thought it was great.  Did it change concert-going for me forever?  No.  No, it did not.

Last night we saw Van Halen at the Verizon Center in DC.  All of Van Halen (almost).  Van Halen as they were meant to be (although a bit older and with Eddie’s son playing bass instead of Michael Anthony – I’m nitpicking here).  I’m referring, of course, to the return of David Lee Roth.

Our seats were on the side, level with and just slightly behind the stage, but we were pretty close and had a decent view.  Eddie and Diamond Dave (who glittered through at least 6 costume changes) spent plenty of time facing our way.  They both looked pretty darn happy to be performing (Eddie gets this crazy/happy/goofy grin on face sometimes).  And the sound was SO much better than the last time we saw them.  Of course, so were our seats.  It was a good concert.  They ended with “Jump”, but I woke up this morning with a song they didn’t play (from the new album) running through my head.  Over the ringing in my ears that hasn’t completely gone away yet.  (Under the ringing, I guess, since the music in my head isn’t really competing with the actual ringing sound.)  As we drove home last night, my ears felt all pressurized, like we’d just changed altitudes.  Our seats weren’t THAT high up, but it was THAT loud.  And THAT fun.  John had his little digital recorder out for most of the songs, but I kept forgetting it was there.  Which is unfortunate because now he’ll know how many of the words to his favorite songs I DON’T know.

(Also, if you’re near the Verizon Center and happen to be looking for a cheap-ish lunch/quick dinner one day, try Camille’s.  The Mexican Daredevil Grilled Hot Wrap was crazy good.  Menu.)

Today, though, I’m tired and cranky.  And hungry (which leads right back to cranky).  Starbucks gave me the wrong drink this morning (and naturally I didn’t realize it until I was in the office), and when I tried to get the right one around lunch time, it was TERRIBLE.  So no caffeine for me today.  We didn’t get to bed until around 1am.  Maybe I should just go to bed now…

I worked from home today.  And I’m going to work from home again tomorrow.  Breathing sucks.  (You’re welcome.)  Well, it does, no matter how you look at it, sick or not.  You can’t run from the truth.  I have had a fuzzy head all day.  John had hopes that really loud music might vibrate all the crud out of my head last night, but it didn’t work.  It was cool, though.  We went to see Eric Johnson play in Alexandria.  We weren’t more than 40 feet away, and I picked the right side to sit on – he was angled towards us most of the night.  Crucial, in his case, ’cause you have to watch his hands fly.

Sorry – no brain, loud music in the basement (the band is rehearsing), and I want some soup.  Wonton soup.  (I had egg drop last night – no, two nights ago.  Love that stuff.)  I lost my train of thought, realized I have nothing left to say about the Eric Johnson concert, and then stared at the screen until it went out of focus.

Oh, you know what’s really totally not cool?  Wearing cologne to the gym.  It’s so unnecessary.  Yesterday, I was on one of the machines, and the guy on my right smelled like he had bathed in the stuff.  It was very irritating to my already irritated nose.  He moved on after 10 minutes or so, but the scent didn’t.  Dude.  It’s okay if you don’t smell like roses.  You’re at the gym.  You’re getting sweaty.  And nobody cares.

And there goes my brain again.  Lost for another 20 minutes.  I need soup.

If you’ve been a reader for a while (or you know me in real life), I’m sure you’re aware of my lifelong devotion to Huey Lewis and the News, illustrated by my need to see them live every time they come anywhere near me (counting last night, that’s five concerts – more than any other show of any kind except Les Mis, whose count is at six, soon to be seven).  (And that’s five concerts with John in tow, who, even though he enjoys the shows and likes Huey just fine, gets a little irritated when he realizes he’s seen them more times than, say, U2 (two, maybe three) or Van Halen (two, maybe three) or Springsteen (four).)

I love Huey.  And because of this love and the knowledge that I will never abandon him or the News (whatever their lineup), I can say this.  Last night’s concert was….not the greatest.  It was not like the other four.  The other four were awesome.  They did what any band (ANY band) who’s had a bunch of hits in the past does.  They played the hits.  Sure, at other concerts they played some stuff from the more recent albums, but those were upbeat and fun and there were only a couple.  Mostly, they played stuff everyone knows and loves and everyone sang along and danced and had an all-around good time.

Last night, there was a distinct lack of energy, both from the band and the audience.  The band recently released a new album (“Soulsville”), (which I will buy and enjoy, I’m sure), but rather than play a handful of songs from that album and then old stuff the rest of the night (like they’ve done in the past, like EVERY OTHER BAND with a back catalog of hits does), they played almost the entire album last night.  In a row.  It was good, it was fine, but it’s not what we (I’m fairly certain the whole crowd was with me on this) were hoping for.  Huey opened with “Heart of Rock and Roll”, of course, with the stage lights flashing red in time with the bass drum heartbeat, and that was cool, but then there were six or seven songs (at least) from “Soulsville”.  Then five or six old songs (“Heart and Soul”, “Small World”, “I Want a New Drug”, “60 Minute Man” (that one was a cappella), a couple others I can’t remember right now), and then back into another two or three songs from “Soulsville” and then they left the stage.  Disappointing.  Of course, they came back for the encore (I’m not entirely sure why everybody plays along with this charade – as long as the house lights haven’t come up, you know they’re coming back.  Maybe they need the break.), started with “The Power of Love” (which finally got everyone on their feet – that was the best song of the night), and then Huey took a few requests (“Bad Is Bad”, “If This Is It”, and I think there was one more, but I can’t think of it), and then it was really over.  The best part of the night was the encore, but every other time I’ve seen him, the whole concert has been like that part.

I feel like I’ve been a little too negative.  The soul stuff was good.  I love his voice.  There’s something about it that makes me very happy.  Even though he didn’t play the songs I was hoping for, I still had a good time.  And I will see them again.  And again.  And again.  I can’t help myself.

Baltimore is not close.  Not during rush hour.  Not in the middle of the week.  Did we go and have a really good time (once we got there)?  Of course we did.  We saw U2.  How could that not be a good time?  It’s gotta be one of the longest tours ever, though.  We saw them almost two years ago – same album, same tour.  This show might have been better than that one, though.  They still had the whole crowd singing “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”, and that was still awesome (maybe a little awesome-er), and they still have the weird alien monster/spaceship stage set thingy.

Our seats were as far away from the stage as you could get and still be in the stadium.  I could barely pick each band member out on the stage.  Good thing the alien overlords brought giant screens with them.  It sounded incredible, though.  I love when I can feel the drums and bass in my chest and under my feet.

I liked how they did “Beautiful Day” this time around.  The giant screen showed pictures of Earth from space, and Bono said they were dedicating the song to Congresswoman Gabby Giffords, and then the camera switched to a video of her husband, the astronaut, while he was actually out in space about a month ago.  He introduced the song with floaty cue cards (normal cue cards, but he was in space, so on with the floating), and then Bono started singing and it was really cool (I like that song a lot).  During the part near the end (“See the world in green and blue, see China right in front of you…”), Bono was singing those lines under Mr. Congresswoman Astronaut Mission Commander’s spoken version.  I liked it.

Later, I don’t remember during which song, the alien invader shot beams of light into space.  I can only assume it was contacting the mothership.  We’ll have to keep an eye on the skies for a little while.

They played for about two hours, and it took us another hour or so to get back to the car, and then we waited for almost 20 minutes in the drive-thru of the worst McDonald’s in Maryland just to get some fries and caffeine so we’d make it back home.  Otherwise, the trip home was pretty easy, relatively quick, and we were asleep by 2:30.  And up at 8.  I’m TIRED.  I don’t do the middle of the night well anymore.

John, looking a little like Jack Nicholson here, does his best to hide his frustration at the traffic.

Every picture I tried to take once it got dark came out really bad, so there’s no point sharing them.  We ran into a guy I knew in college (he was in ROTC with me) while standing in the Will Call line to get our tickets.  We were never really friends, just acquaintances, and this is the second time we’ve run into each other in three or four years.  Once at the mall in Tysons, and once in Baltimore.  Neither of us lives anywhere near either of those places.  Maybe the universe is telling us we should be friends.  That would be easier if we’d exchanged any information at all.  Not something I’ll lose any sleep over.  I don’t have any sleep to lose.

It was a good concert, we had a good time, and I’m glad we went.  Even if I do have circles under my eyes so dark they could be mistaken for that black paint they put on football players to cut down on the glare.  (That’s why they do that, right?  Not to look scarier?)  I’m putting Baltimore up there with FedEx Field on the list of places I won’t go for a concert unless it’s for someone REALLY good.  The traffic, the parking, the whole tedious hassle of getting there and back – it’s got to be worth it.  I think U2 was worth it.  Ask me again in a few days, after I’ve slept.

No, it was worth it.  Not because it was U2.  I like doing something.  With John.  This was a 10-hour round trip, nonstop time with John on our way to and from seeing one of his favorite bands of all time.  I’d do it again.  But I’ll plan to take the next day off work.

…to miss New Orleans?  [Written Wednesday night, March 30th, edited today.]

Honestly, I haven’t left yet, but I imagine I’ll know pretty soon.  These last two nights have been among the best ever.  Everyone I know is missing out.  Last night, I went to Preservation Hall and met Shannon Powell (drummer for Harry Connick, Jr, for six years (not anymore) and on what I consider to be his three best albums), and tonight I saw Mr. Powell play at the Palm Court Jazz Cafe with some awesome New Orleans musicians AND Jerry Weldon and Wendell Brunious, both of whom have played (and do play) with Harry Connick, Jr.  Jerry Weldon plays tenor saxophone, and I swear I recognized his tone (not his face) the minute he started playing.  Have you heard him play “A Nightingale Sang on Berkeley Square”?  I have, at least a thousand times.  I’d recognize that sound anywhere.  (Branford Marsalis plays it on the album, but Jerry plays it on The New York Big Band Concert video, which I unfortunately only have on VHS.  That will change soon.)

Here’s how it went: Last night, Shannon told me he’d be playing at the Palm Court tonight at 8. I made plans with a coworker (that would be Crazy) to go there for dinner. She got waylaid by our clients, so I went there by myself, still expecting her to show up once she got rid of them. (She never did.)  I walked in the door a little before 8, and when the hostess asked me if I wanted to sit at the bar, I said (a little excitedly), “I’m here for the band.  And the food.”  She laughed a little (at me, I’m sure), and gave me a table for two right at the edge of the stage.

That's my table. And my second hurricane.

The band came on, Shannon popped over to say hi, and they were great.  At the first break, I stopped the bass player (Richard Molton) to tell him how much I enjoyed his playing (he was really good).  He said he hadn’t been playing this kind of music lately (since Katrina), and he felt out of his element.  I told him it didn’t show.  He asked me if I was local.  I said no, and he said he thought I knew Shannon.  (!)  I explained.  Nice guy.  Then I left him alone to take his break.  Shannon came by to say hi again, sat down at my table.  (Wait – it gets better.)  He said, “Your favorite trombone player is here.”  “No…”  He nodded.  “Introduce me?”  He did.  We walked over to a table near the back of the restaurant, and I met Lucien Barbarin, hilarious and fantastic trombone player for Harry Connick, Jr.  SO cool.  I went back to my table and texted Corey, “I just met Lucien.”  His response: “This is epic.  Get pictures!”  Pictures!  Of course!  I went back to Lucien’s table and said something like (I’d had two hurricanes, so I’m not sure exactly what I said), “Excuse me.  I’m sorry to interrupt you again, and I know this is a bit fangirl-ish, but could I get a picture of the two of us?”  He’s a gentleman and all-around nice guy, so of course he said that would be fine.  I handed my phone off to I don’t know who (maybe Richard?), and got my picture of me and Lucien.

My dark and blurry picture of me and Lucien

And then I got a picture of me and Shannon.

Great hat

I have a picture of me and Richard, too, but it’s way worse than those two.  We’re backlit and you can barely make out our fuzzy faces.

The band went back on for their second set, but this time, they had a few people sit in.  Wendell Brunious on trumpet, Jerry Weldon on tenor saxophone, and some guy whose name I didn’t catch on guitar joined in.  It’s amazing to me that these guys can sit in with a band used to playing together and pick up on all the arrangements.  Or, if they don’t, everyone can handle it.  They’ll all figure it out, play well together, handle any hiccups, and the audience will never know.  Professionals.  So cool.

Did I mention the singer?  Topsy Chapman, who was fantastic, did “At Last” and I nearly cried.

After the second set ended, I told the trombone player how much I enjoyed his playing (that might have happened after the first set – he looked like he was having SUCH a good time), I talked to Richard the bass player again (found out he’s been playing his second best bass since Katrina because his first one was destroyed after sitting in something like nine feet of water), said goodbye to Lucien and Jerry (Lucien hugged me!), talked briefly with the younger guys who were with Lucien (both playing in Harry’s orchestra – one subbing for a couple of weeks, one who’s been with him for ten years – oh my god!), and then Shannon offered me a ride to my hotel.  We were walking out with him and his trumpet player (not Wendell).  I told him that wasn’t necessary, he didn’t need to drive me home.  He asked me if I’d rather walk.  ‘Not really.”  (It was late and it would have taken me at least half an hour.)  So he dropped me off at my hotel.  I have the date and time of his next gig (tomorrow night), and I will be there.

I was there, it was awesome, and I will tell you about it very soon.  But first, a couple more pictures from that night.

That's Jerry Weldon (you know, the guy with the saxophone). Lars Edegran is in the back on piano (he was at Preservation Hall the night before). I never caught the names of the other two guys.

The whole band, with my empty table (and third hurricane) up front.

That's a classic Jerry Weldon move.

John told me a number of times that I should go to Preservation Hall, so Tuesday morning I looked up the website.  I recognized the name of the guy playing that night (because I’m a big Harry Connick, Jr fan and a bit of an obsessive nerd, I happened to know off the top of my head that Shannon Powell was the drummer for his big band in the early nineties (We Are In Love is possibly my favorite album)), so I planned to go after work.  First set started at 8pm.  Unfortunately, I had to get through the whole day first.  I invited my coworker, who I’ll call Crazy (the only other person on this trip who actually works for my company – everyone else we worked with that week works for our client agency), and we got invited to dinner with one of the clients.  I didn’t particularly want to hang out with anyone from the agency after working hours (I was hoping to relax.  I didn’t want to be on anymore.), but I didn’t have a not-rude way out just then.  Anyway, she wasn’t interested in going to Preservation Hall.  I could handle dinner.

Dinner was uneventful, even boring, especially because Crazy bailed on me.  It started pouring down rain (like flooding rain – we could have swum down Canal Street), and she called to tell me she was staying in.  I had an teeny umbrella that barely kept my head dry, but nothing was keeping me from Preservation Hall that night, so I met my client coworker outside her hotel, and we ran through the rain to the Palace Cafe.  Got drenched from about mid-thigh down.  The food was good (I had andouille crusted fish – spicy and delicious), the conversation was boring, and as soon as I dropped client coworker back at her hotel, I headed out.

If you’ve never been, Preservation Hall (at least where the band plays) is this tiny little room with dirty wood plank flooring, a few wooden benches in the middle of the room (maybe four) and along the walls, a row of cushions up front, and some standing room in the back.  The entrances to the room are on the left side if you’re facing the street (and the band).  There are two doorways on that side, one near the front of the room and one near the back.  You go in through the back and leave out the front, and the doorway near the front is right by the band.  When I came in ($12 cover, and $2 for traditional requests, $5 for other requests, $10 for “When the Saints Go Marching In”, noted on a little sign on the wall behind the band), the band was playing, and as I passed the front doorway, I looked in, saw Shannon Powell (Shannon Powell!), and he waved at me and gave an enthusiastic “Hey!”  That was awesome.  I gathered he really liked to see people come in to hear him play.  There were a ton of people there already, so I joined the crowd in the back and found a spot where I could see.  Sort of.  If I stayed on my toes and looked over a guy’s shoulder.  Still, the music was awesome, and we all had a good time.  The set ended about nine, maybe a little before, and I stuck around for the next set.  I watched the people leaving talk to members of the band (Shannon Powell on drums, Lars Edegran on piano, Clive somebody on trumpet, somebody else on bass, and Scott somebody on trombone) as they filed past them on their way out that front doorway, and I decided I’d talk to Shannon and gush a little on my way out after the next set.  I found a better spot along the right-hand wall for the second set.  The crowd this time around wasn’t as lively.  I was the most enthusiastic person there, clapping to the beat, having a wonderful time.  Totally fun, and I decided to stay for the third set.  How often will I get to see this?  I’ll manage staying out late on a work night.  My enthusiasm didn’t go unnoticed.  After the second set ended, Mr. Powell came over to meet me.  Wanted to know who his fan was, I think.  It turns out he said hi to me when I came in because I look like someone he used to work with who left town a while back.  He thought she may have been back for a visit.  Yeah, that’s not me.  But still, I’m an enthusiastic fan.  He asked me what I was drinking (I didn’t have a drink), and I said nothing right now.  He beckoned me along after him.  We went across the street and stepped into a bar.  (Johnny White’s.)  I was feverishly trying to think of what to order that wouldn’t be either gross (to me) or totally lame (to him).  He asked, I said rum and coke, he said he’s drinking rum, too (rum and orange juice, I think), I said that sounds good, and he ordered me one.  And waved me away when I reached for my wallet.  He bought me a drink.  !  We chatted a little (where am I from, where are you touring next, etc), and he asked me if I wanted to hang out with the band later.  I panicked a little, said I couldn’t, I’m here for work, and I have a presentation in the morning.  Lies!  My presentation was the day after, in the afternoon.  He said something about getting my number so we can stay in touch and catch up when he comes to DC.  (I was thinking to myself that I was not that captivating during that conversation.  Still, he’s didn’t come across as sleazy.  Just friendly.)  Anyway, I regretted the presentation lie and decided I’d tell him I mixed up the days if he asked again.  (He didn’t.)  He said he’s playing at the Palm Court the next night (Wednesday).  I asked about it, and he said they have great food, great music.  I said I’ll be there.  We went back to the hall for his third set, and I took my spot back on the wall.  Good third set (the crowd was better than for the second set).  We all danced at the end.  The guy hugging the wall behind me thanked me on behalf of the band for being able to clap on the right beat (2 and 4 as opposed to 1 and 3 like a few idiots in the audience).  I tipped the band (as you do), and Shannon said “Palm Court tomorrow?”  “I’ll be there at 8.”  I headed out and walked back to my hotel, grinning like an idiot at everyone I passed (it was a little before midnight), and called Mindy to rave about my evening.  What did she want to know?  “What are you going to wear tomorrow?”  We have priorities.  It was SO. MUCH. FUN.

Well, the weather outside is chilly (not very frightful), but inside is nice and toasty, made more so by the Yuletide Fire DVD Mom got.

I had a very weird few moments at the Canadian Brass concert (where they played only a couple of Christmas songs) Saturday night.  They played Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, which I know from their Greatest Hits album.  I listened to that album on repeat while reading The Mirror of Her Dreams and A Man Rides Through, by Stephen R. Donaldson, years and years ago, and ever since then, whenever I hear that album, I’m returned to that story.  That’s never happened to me with a live performance before, but it did Saturday night.  For the length of the song, scenes from the books were shuffling through my memory.  Strange.  But cool.

Then Jess and I stayed up to watch Love Actually and drink champagne.    Until 2am.

I wimped out on my run this morning.  I took Howdy with me, but I left my ear muffs and gloves behind.  We only made it three blocks before I decided I was too cold.  That was dumb, ’cause it’s going to be even colder tomorrow.  I won’t forget my ear muffs and gloves again, but I don’t know how much that’ll help.

I don’t feel like I did enough today, and I think it’s because I didn’t run.  I got out and ran some errands (bought a new thermostat, got the oil changed in my car, had copies made of the house keys for the new pet sitter (who we’re meeting tomorrow)), so I was at least, you know, active, but I feel like a slob.

Dinner, while delicious and healthy (kimchi, rice, lettuce wraps), was painful.  I have a cut on my thumb, just under the nail, and the rice vinegar and soy sauce in the kimchi hurt a lot as it ran over my hands.  Which happened with every bite.  John eventually gave up on the lettuce wraps and just ate rice and kimchi with a fork.  Next time I’ll make sure we have chopsticks.  This is the second time I’ve made kimchi (using Mark’s recipe – good recipe, Mark!), and it turned out pretty well.  John has already eaten most of the non-spicy batch I made for him.

Tomorrow Jess is coming over, and we’re going to see the Canadian Brass Christmas concert at George Mason.  John surprised me with tickets for this concert last year at the Kennedy Center.  He’s pretty good with surprises.  And the concert was great, so I’m very excited.  And Jess is coming over!

…where “super cool” means funny in a musically geeky kind of way.  Oh, and really awesome.  The concert was great.  And it was a total surprise.  I didn’t even know they were in town.  By Friday I knew something was happening on Monday, but I had no idea what.  I got a call from my dentist’s office while we were driving to PA on Friday.  They wanted to know if I could move one of my appointments to Monday afternoon.  I was already telling them I couldn’t (because of work), when I noticed that John was saying that I definitely could not go to the dentist Monday afternoon.  Naturally (once I was off the phone), I wanted to know why he would all of a sudden care when I go to the dentist.  And he refused to tell me!

So I knew something was up but had no idea what.  And somehow, I managed to keep my curiosity in check all weekend.  Then it was Sunday night, and I started trying to find out if there was anything I needed to know.  You know, do I have be prepared for something?  Do I have to dress up?  Are we coming home after work or do I have to ready for whatever it is that morning?  I think I wore him down, so he told me before we went to sleep that he got us tickets for the Canadian Brass holiday concert at the Kennedy Center!  So cool.  I love them.

We left straight from work (fast food in the car for dinner) because I had to work until 6pm and the concert started at 7.  John got us box seats (!), so we were seated in the front row of the lower balcony level, stage left, in the Concert Hall.

All five of them (two trumpets, one french horn, a tuba, and a trombone) entered from the back of the hall, playing something slow (I don’t remember what).  They walked in step, in slow motion, in single file (I could go on) down the aisle towards the stage.  They were all wearing black suits with white Adidas sneakers and different color shirts.  They looked comfortable.  Fun.  Which is pretty much what they are.  Two of the members have been in the group since they started in 1970.  One of the trumpeters is only 20!  And he was GOOD.  Of course he was good, he’s in the Canadian Brass, but you know what I mean.

It was a really good, really fun, concert.  I love the way they sound, how it all blends.  Good surprise, John!

And on top of that, John got permission from our boss for us to take the morning off and not go to work until 1pm today.  He didn’t realize I had a dentist appointment at 10:20 and was already planning on not showing up until 1, but that doesn’t make it any less sweet.  So we slept in and had a lazy morning.  It was very nice.  And my dentist appointment was not painful, so that was good, too.  Once I got to work and the numbness wore off, my mouth started to ache, but hey, that’s what ibuprofen is for.  And I only have two more appointments.  This year.   This month, since it’s December already.  And now that I’m not hurting anymore, I can have turkey sandwiches for dinner.  Okay, one turkey sandwich.  And some leftover green bean casserole.  Leftover Thanksgiving food is not good for my diet.

It’s Tuesday, and I still haven’t finished writing about Saturday.  I could say I’m a very busy person and I just couldn’t find the time, but that’s not really true.  I’m mostly just lazy.  It’s not even that (although that is certainly true).  I have a lot to do, so I feel like I shouldn’t be spending time on this.  See, that excuse makes me sound responsible. 

Back to Saturday.  We finished the race, didn’t feel like we did very well, and all warmth we generated by running fled immediately.  So we hopped back in the car, turned up the heat, and went home.  We were meeting Greg, Amanda, Erik, and Margaret at the Maggiano’s at Tysons Galleria at 7, and it was just before 5 when we left the race.  No problem.  Added to that, though, is John’s desire to go to a bookstore to look for this Java programming book he couldn’t find at Border’s the day before.  So we got home, took relatively quick showers, and left the house right about 6pm.

News flash!  The race times were posted.  My official race time for the Herndon Turkey Trot was 29:59.  Can’t cut it much closer than that.  That’s a 9:40 pace.  And I can’t even say I’ll do better Thursday morning.  I haven’t run at all since Saturday.  We’ll see, I guess.

Back to the story.  The story without a point.  I really shouldn’t call it a story.  Tysons Galleria only has a Waldenbooks, so we went to Tysons Corner Center to see if the Barnes and Noble there had the book.  (I like links.)  We set the record (for us) for the shortest time spent in a bookstore.  That’s not the kind of record I want to be setting when it comes to bookstores.  But we did find the book.  And we were driving into the parking lot of the other Tysons right at 7pm.

We met Erik, Margaret, Greg, and Amanda and ate.  It was delicious.  Our movie was starting at 9, in the other Tysons, so we left in kind of a hurry.  Greg and Amanda got there first and met us in front of the ticket area with the news that the 9pm showing and the one after that were both sold out.  (We were trying to see the new Bond movie.)  Then Erik and Margaret got there.  Despite the fact that four of the six of us had actually been in this mall before dinner, none of us thought to buy tickets ahead of time.  And considering how little time we left between dinner and the movie, even if we had tickets, we probably wouldn’t have been able to find seats next to each other.  But whatever.  We decided to skip the movie and just hang out.  Always a good idea.  Of course, it took us forever to decide where to go and then to actually get there.  Without an actual schedule, getting us somewhere is like herding cats.  (I love that image.)  We certainly had a good time during all of the standing around, though.    We stood around at the theater level, then stood around in the Barnes and Noble (there weren’t any seats in the Starbucks there), and then we decided to head to the Silver Diner across the street from the mall.  Love that place.  John and I haven’t actually been there for real food since we lived in Reston, but we like it.  So we got desserts to share (John and I shared this really delicious bread pudding) and tried to get the table-top jukebox to play our songs.  We requested three, I think, but they never did play.

Margaret said the funniest thing, but I can’t remember what it was.  She was making fun of John, and it was hilarious.  Wish I could remember.  It probably wouldn’t be funny to anyone now, but still.

We left the diner a little after eleven, I think, ’cause I was fading.  Got our blender out of Margaret’s trunk (Thanks, Margaret!) and went home.

We didn’t have quite as many things going on Sunday, but it still felt pretty busy.  Actually, John didn’t have anything going on.  Just studying.  I braved the crowds at Wegman’s to get what we needed for the week and Thanksgiving.  I managed to get out of there in about an hour.  And then I headed to DC to hang out with Jess.  Yay!

We met up at this coffeehouse in DC, near Union Station.  Ebenezer’s.  Wait!  I parked about a block away, and on my walk over I was harassed!  I kept saying “accosted”, but John and I decided that “accosted” has physical connotations, and my harassment was only verbal.  These two guys were coming my way on the sidewalk – you know what?  I don’t want to go into the details.  It wasn’t a big deal, and I never felt like I was in physical danger or anything, but it was very uncomfortable and I was trying to walk away without making them mad (and I did), and I’m uncomfortable just thinking about it again.  So nevermind.

Jess was inside when I got there and she had found seats for us, so we camped out with our coffee and chai and chatted about who knows what for about 4 hours.  It was wonderfully pleasant, and we decided afterwards that we’ll have to do something like that regularly.

Sunday evening, John and I watched Reign Over Me, with Adam Sandler and Don Cheadle.  (We didn’t watch it with them…)  It was pretty good.  I think I liked it.  Adam Sandler was not his typically moronic self.  We had some issues with the DVD (it kept getting stuck) which made it difficult to stay fully engrossed in the story.  We eventually gave up on the DVD and finished it online through Netflix.

My dentist appointment yesterday was fine.  I kept expecting it to hurt, so I was tense pretty much the whole time, but I really only felt pressure and a couple of pinpricks.  Nothing bad.  But that won’t stop me from anticipating pain during my next three visits, I’m sure.  Also, I am now the proud owner of an electric toothbrush.  Fascinating, I know.  It should be done charging by now, so I’ll use it for the first time tonight.  Woohoo!

Last night John and I went to see Chad and Jeremy perform at the Barns at Wolf Trap.  Two things: if you ever listen to oldies, you know who they are.  Their biggest hits (and almost only hits) were “A Summer Song” and “Yesterday’s Gone”.  They played “Yesterday’s Gone” pretty early in the concert and ended with “A Summer Song”.  And I recognized a song in the encore (I hadn’t realized it was one of theirs), but naturally I can’t even hear how it goes in my head anymore, so I can’t tell you what it was.  The second thing is about the Barns.  That is such a cool venue.  This was only the second time John and I have been there.  The first was for an improv comedy show.  It really is two barns joined together.  The box office and the bar are in one barn, and they’re connected by a couple of hallways to the barn that houses the stage.  The walls are exposed wood, really big planks, and it has high ceilings.  We were sitting just under the balcony overhang last night, maybe 50-60 feet from the stage.  It’s an intimate setting, and the sound is really good.

Before the show started, when everyone was finding their seats, they were playing oldies over the sound system, and you could hear random people (myself included) singing along.  That was kind of cool.

So the concert started, and Chad and Jeremy came out on stage.  They talked about their career and played songs mostly in order.  They were quietly funny and quite self-deprecating.  They had some minor difficulties (took several tries to start some songs, had some problems keeping a string on Jeremy’s guitar in tune), but they handled everything with humor.  It was fun.  Pleasant might be an accurate word to describe the evening.  Mellow works, too.  Their “political” songs were iffy, at best.  They played two or three of those, and the lyrics were pretty bad.  That part reminded John of why This is Spinal Tap is so funny.  The patter in between the songs and some of the career history reminded him of why A Mighty Wind is so funny.

I mentioned the people singing along before the concert for a reason.  At a normal rock concert, people scream and shout and sing at the top of their lungs.  This was obviously not that kind of concert.  People did sing along (at least to the two songs everyone knew), but they did it quietly, almost as if they were singing to themselves.  It was very low-key and kind of funny.

And yes, we were the youngest people there by at least 20 years.