D'oh!
18 August 1998
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D'oh!
18 August 1998
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I am such an idiot sometimes. After staying up all night and into the morning, long enough to hear some consultant on NPR talking about sleep disorders, I finally fell asleep around 10:30 AM and woke up at about 6 PM today. Usual dithering ensued, eventually managed to shower and leave the house right around 8, intending to go have dinner and buy something to read.
The only thing that saved me was my inner DJ, and that's going to require some reconsideration. Normally I just regard whatever part of my brain that's in charge of internal music as a direct agent of Satan - mostly because his two big favorites seem to be the Emperor's Theme from Star Wars and the Star Spangled Banner. I don't know anybody who find themselves humming either of those tunes under normal pharmacological conditions.
Nonetheless, this one time it came through. Because before I was a few blocks away from my house, the tune that came up was (probably not the title) "She's In Parties" by Bauhaus. And - wham! What was I doing??!? They're playing tonight! I have a ticket to go see this! A $35 ticket, I might add.
By sheer luck, the show didn't start until 9 and I remembered this around 8:15, so I was actually able to get there on time. It wasn't that long ago that I was a constant member of the goth scene here in San Francisco - about the last time that I had no job but still had money, come to think of it. Wonder if there's a connection there... And when I say "member", I mean, I was at the clubs, not that I was ever part of the elite circle. I think I'd have had to have been about 10 years more innocent to take it seriously enough to do that. But it was nice seeing all the freaky boys and girls again, flocking together for security against the neckless norm.
The show itself was amazing - surprisingly good, for a reunion tour. Peter Murphy is a very silly fellow, but beyond that, even the songs that I'd never heard before were great. And that's a hard thing to accomplish in a concert, where at least half of the subtleties are lost in feedback.
If I could have just gotten rid of the boys in front of me who could not shut up, it would have been perfect. What is this male thing with having to explain shows instead of just listening to them? Do these guys think they're on network TV or something?
But. Minor point. Show good, beer later, tired now, words not line in. Stop talking. Good idea.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
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All names are fake, most places are real, the
author is definitely
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