First, no I am not turning this blog into a Dad blog. My
wife and I are planning a parenting blog, but we are still trying to solidify
the voice and title. We had a GREAT idea, and we knew it was great because
someone already took it, so… In the meantime, being a step-dad is my current
station in life, so it is bound to find its way into my musings. Luckily, this
time, it is also about music.
Amanda and I are very big on experiential gifts, so this
year one of the family gifts was to see Jason
Isbell at the Peabody.
Because I ain’t cheap, I got us good seats, like 10 rows back. The seats were
perfect, patrons around us seemed chill, and we were ready for a great night of
listening to our favorite as a family.
The evening kicked off with a rumpus set from Shovels and Rope. Always great to see a
group really feeling it, and they were so gracious. I will say they were a bit
loud for my taste, and not loud in the “get off my lawn” kind of way, loud in
the we are a two piece so we are going try to fill the void with volume. This
happens. Hell, I started running split amps when Corey Woodruff and I were playing out as a duo. I’m not mad
at them. I know why it happens. I am just saying the songs were strong enough
to stand on their own without being propped up by volume causing uncontrolled
feedback.
After a lengthy change over, Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit
took the stage, and we lit up. For the first time in the six times I have seen
him, his wife, Amanda Shires, was
on stage with him. There is something so incredibly moving about seeing a
husband and wife perform together, when the looks of love are not a mere
façade. Plus with a budding 8-year-old fiddle player in the house, we were
thrilled for her to be able to witness greatness. As they always do, Isbell and
the band destroyed the stage. They were tight as a hipster’s jorts. Their joy
and enthusiasm for the music could be felt everywhere in the room. They brought
smiles and tears, bringing the house down with “Cover Me Up” which, by all
accounts, was everything. It was shaping up to be a perfect night, and then
there was the encore.
As is common, folks tend to inch their way forward during
the pause between the last song of the main set and the encore. Some people
bail, hoping to avoid traffic, while others clamber to get closer. The majority
around me were sitting still, so I didn’t think much of it, but behind us was a
row of folding chairs reserved for folks attending the concert with someone in
a wheel chair. The row was vacant for the entire show, until the encore. That’s
when things took a turn for the worse.
Behind us stood a very intoxicated Mid-Life Crisis Barbie, well into her 40’s and dressed for
clubbing, and her friend I am Too Old for
American Idol but I Think I Can Sing Barbie. Now, I am not mad at AI
Barbie. You do you. If you are feeling it, sing your ass off. As a performer,
we LOVE it. It helps that you were almost in tune, too. Crisis Barbie, on the
other hand, not a fan. As the band returned to the stage, they eased into
“Flagship.” As you will see below, this is not a rocker; this is a subtle
ballad that begs to be listened to. Crisis Barbie didn’t see it that way. She
was very content to loudly hackle and talk with AI Barbie. I kept my cool.
Rolling my eyes and breathing, and then she dropped her drink, almost dropping
it on my step-son. I gave a quick cutting glare, but still maintained. Then as
AI pointed out what she had done, I hear Crisis say, “Fuck that kid.” I was in
her face in a nanosecond. I am not entirely sure what all I said, but I know
there was a “Shut the Fuck Up” and not like the way Elaine would have said it
to Jerry if Seinfeld was on Showtime; more like Stone Cold would have said it
to Vince McMahon. She gave me a couple “Fuck Yous,” but the only thing I heard
from her the rest of the night was the rattle of her ice cubes against the
plastic up, as she tried not to waste the remaining drops of vodka.
Now, I will be the first to admit I did not handle this
situation well. I definitely needed to be more tactful. I envision she is
telling stories about the asshole at the concert as I write this. Clearly she
isn’t going to own that she was the asshole. Drunk people rarely do. And I know
I made an impact because, at some point, her fella came to her side. Like many,
I’ve been there before, where the girl I was with was running her mouth,
justified or not, and I had to step in to end the conflict. When the show ended
and the lights came up, he made eye contact and offered a “good show”
fist-bump. This is similar to a bear showing a submissive posture or yielding
space. While his mouth said, “Good show, right?” his eyes said, “Look Bro, I
see you. I get that your arm is as big as my leg, and you are sober while my
reaction time clearly is impaired. Let’s chalk this up to what it is: she’s
drunk, and I don’t want to fight you.” I nodded and helped little man get his
coat on.
While I regret the manner in which I approached the
situation, I do not regret responding and, frankly, I am TIRED of people not
doing anything; of people enabling this kind of behavior or biting their
tongues because, “(s)he’s drunk.” In an effort to avoid similar situations in
the future, I will offer a few tips. I am pretty sure I have written something
like this in the past, but it needs to be repeated.
- If your intention is to talk through a
show, please stay home. People have paid good money to HEAR the performer.
And, as a performer, talking is seriously disrespectful. What I have
written has meaning, and I am offering it to you, so please listen. If you
are more interested in hearing the sound of your voice, belly up to a bar
somewhere without live music and talk until you are hoarse.
- If you are going to the show because it
presents a good chance for you to become intoxicated, please stay home.
Think about the cost savings. That $80 worth of rail drinks would cost you
about $25 at home with the good shit, plus you don’t have to worry about
paying for Uber, or worse, driving drunk. You can be as obnoxious as you
want and no fucks will be given. Well your friends may, but they already
love you, so they’ll likely forgive you.
- If you try to get slick at a show and move
into some vacant seats with a better vantage point, realize you can easily
be removed, so be on your best behavior.
- Lastly, if you see a bear and his cub,
don’t poke the bear.
