So I thought it might be fun to go through my old Myspace archives - those that I wrote before resuscitating my Blogger account - so that my Pre-Blogger exploits could be enjoyed by my entire Internet readership. I am sure both of you will enjoy this:
Great Big Sea concert - September 16, 2008
The phrase "Magnificently Spectacular" falls short
Oh.......... My......... GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As my blog title states, human words of praise fall sadly short of describing what happened at the House of Blues Cleveland last Tuesday night. And it heralded what could quite possibly be the coolest thing that's ever happened to me. My pictures have been uploaded. Go check 'em out.
Here are some highlights, off the top of my head as I recall them, in no specific order:
I got to see my Daddy.
They did Gallows Pole again. As it was in Akron, it was beyond amazing. I found myself wishing that I had it in album or at least MP3 form, but realized that it would NOT be the same. It is powerful and mad, and, as Sean says, "evil". I doubt you could capture it on a CD. Unless, of course, they released another DVD *cough cough hint hint nudge nudge*.
As soon as Bob took his place for the first song, he saw me, noted my "I LOVE BOB" shirt, then smiled and raised his eyebrows to himself, possibly wondering what to expect from the crazy panty-flinging girl this time. If he guessed more panty-flinging, he was right.
In keeping with the ongoing "one guy does a solo on any given night" theme, Sean sang "Widow in the Window" from the Sea of No Cares record, a song that I've never seen live and that they haven't done in a while, at least.
Murray tried to lick Sean's ear.
Alan loves those sandwiches that Panini's makes with the potato chips in them. He says that Philly cheesesteak has nothing on Panini's sandwiches.
They did Walk on the Moon again. I cried. Again.
Sean likes to wear women's deodorant because it smells better than men's. He also likes to eat at the House of Blues restaurant because they feed him, water him, shower him and provide him with women's deodorant.
Kris is not just another pretty face.
Sean winked at me. And smiled at me on several occasions. I'm sure it was because he's a nice guy, and not because I was in the front row wearing a white t-shirt and bouncing like a madwoman.
I threw another pair of panties at Bob (again, purchased especially for the occasion and never worn). The last time they were white lace, this time I went for black zebra stripes. They both were size 5s (my panty size), because it's only appropriate. This time I opted for the 'flinging' release, as opposed to the previously used 'throwing' release, and accidentally got them suspended from his fiddle (the INSTRUMENT, you dirty-minded people). I was a bit embarrassed, but the crowd roared at this, and Sean loved it. He laughed and gave me an approving nod, and I spent the next four songs hoping that he wasn’t about to pick up his fiddle.
My camera behaved funny, causing a lot of my pictures to come out super red-orange and kinda fuzzy. I did get some decent ones, though, and they have already been posted on my page. Check them out, if you haven't already.
At the end of the show, Mr. Hallett approached the edge of the stage slowly and deliberately and presented me with his (his) set list and gave me a flirty wink (I can pretend it was flirty. You cannot prove me wrong. And if you can please get off of my cloud.) I may have passed out from sheer happiness.
I finally have a copy of "Up". The only album I am now missing is Great Big Sea.
I got a pamphlet at the House of Blues restaurant that has a picture of Great Big Sea on the top and a picture of Hanson on the bottom (I am going to see them there on the 29th). Again, sheer happiness.
They did Donkey Riding, Process Man, and Ferryland Sealer. For a third time, s h e e r h a p p i n e s s .
After the show was over and Dad got an Octopus shirt and a deck of playing cards, we headed back to my car on Prospect Avenue to get my bodhrán, then next door to Flannery's Pub, which was crowded and way too loud, though when I mentioned this to Dad, he thought it prudent to point out that the concert itself had been louder, but I say at least the concert was an explosively joyful noise, as opposed to the irritating cacophony in the bar. We wandered about there for a few minutes, trying to get close enough to the bar to ask for some water ("All I want is some water!!" I kept saying) because being a squealy HallettHead is hard on one's throat. Once we had accomplished that we made our way out to the bus and were stunned to find that Alan was already out there doing the meet & greet thing! As I approached I heard "Thanks for coming out, love" which may have been directed at someone else, but again if you feel that way GET OFFA MY CLOUD!
Dad got his cards signed ("I didn't even know we sold these," Alan told us with wonder, "but then, I don't really know what our t-shirts look like, either.") Dad said something about the show being awesome, and Alan shook his hand (and didn't let me forget later that he shook Alan Doyle's hand he shook Alan Doyle's hand Oh my God HE SHOOK ALAN DOYLE'S HAND!!) Dad had complained about being tired, as he had worked 11 hours the night before and was operating on 3 hours of sleep, but as soon as the guys took the stage he was as smiley as me. He even did some jumping, which I would have thought would have been hard on his back.
Anywho, Alan skipped out shortly after we got there. He sat on the other side of the fence that separated the road from the parking lot the bus was in and talked to some woman (I could see him. He was RIGHT THERE). I didn't want to interrupt him, but I really REALLY wanted a photo, and Dad was being accosted by an irritating and loud and aromatic homeless person. But when I started around the corner I was harassed by a guy in a yellow reflective jacket, who told me that the few steps I had traveled were not allowed and that I would have to return to the sidewalk. I still don't know what difference those three feet made, but I ended up leaving pictureless and feeling dejected, but reminded myself how AWESOME the show had been, especially all the Bob parts.
So we went back to my car, and I drove Dad to his parking garage. I got lost getting back to Prospect (I didn't want to go down Euclid, the official address of the HOB, because that wasn't where the bus was parked. HAD to see if Alan was still there.) Alan had since retired, but there were still roadies loading up the bus, and in a moment of insanity, I suddenly swerved into a parallel park across the street, thinking that I would hate myself forever for not at least giving it a try (I've been doing that a lot lately - acting before thinking so that I can't let myself get scared out of doing something - must be all this Walk on the Moon nonsense). I had nothing to lose, I reminded myself. I was going to bring my set list and get it signed, but figured that I had a good chance of returning unsuccessful. If I did find success, I decided that I would rather have success getting my bodhrán signed, as I've been waiting a long time for that.
So bodhrán case in hand, I strode across the street and stood there somewhat timidly (note: the place I was standing was significantly within the forbidden zone, but the crew didn't mind my being there, unlike the Yellow Jacket Guy). One of the guys came toward me on his way to the bus and said Hi to me. I said, "Hi... I know that the guys are supposed to be done for the night, but do you think I could get Sean to sign my drum for me?"
He said... "Sure."
Somewhat astonished, I handed him my bodhrán case, and added as an afterthought, "Tell them I'm the girl in the "I Bob shirt." He laughed at me skeptically, but I told him I was serious, he had to say it.
So glad I did. A minute later he re-emerged. With this:
And that, my friends, is when I died and went to heaven.
