Many the miles

One of the great things that happened yesterday is that I went to a concert last night with my friend, Denver Kelly (as opposed to Peoria Kelly because naming them this way is just easier for me). We saw Raining Jane (never heard of them before last night), Marc Broussard (he is fantastic!!), and Sara Bareilles. It was at the Paramount - which is a cool, intimate theatre.

Before the concert even started, I had three goals: to not cry if she sang "Gravity," to not throw my panties at Marc Broussard EVEN if he sang "Yes We Can," and to not get told by Kelly to quit my off-key singing. To quote Meatloaf, two out of three ain't bad.

The opening acts were really good - they sounded awesome and the great acoustics of the theatre really added to their performance. Marc Broussard's voice was gravely, soulful, and all around phenomenal. Unfortunately, the same was not true for Sara's set. Her band was SO loud (specifically the bassist and the kick drum) that I had a hard time hearing her when they played with her. It really took away from the songs - at times sounding so much like those guys that pull up next to you in traffic with the bass so loud that you can FEEL it. Normally, I listen to my music with the bass almost all the way down because it bothers me - like it does something to the equilibrium in my head or the balls in my ears. So this was my own particular type of hell. Songs I was dying to hear, but was struggling not to throw up on the lady in front of me. Not that she would've noticed. She was too busy texting on her iPhone (the contrast level on which was set to: brightest; AKA SURE TO ANNOY THOSE AROUND YOU).

Even that wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't paired with the lights show from hell. You know how when you go see a movie at the theatre in the middle of the day and when you get outside afterwards you're blinded by the sun? Okay, it was like that, but times one million. Because the light designer apparently decided that the audience might get more out of the act if we were not able to focus on anything. Just when your eyes started to recover, you were hit again with another bright spotlight peeking just past the guitar player's legs. I couldn't even see the colors after a while. Was that light pink? Blue? Green? Who knows - I'm not even sure if I was blinking.

Anyway, the combination of not being able to see OR hear left me slightly frustrated. When I got out of the concert, I really wanted to walk over to the bassist and punch him in the face. And then break his guitar. And then kidnap Sara and make her sing the concert all over again with just her and a piano that I would've also stolen. But really, that seemed like too much work - especially since I was still trying to nurse my burned retinas.