Last night, Paul and I did something we haven't done in a really, really long time ... we went to a concert. A rock and roll concert.
A TOM PETTY CONCERT!
It was a good show. I thought it was a little too much like listening to a "Greatest Hits" CD on shuffle - every song was performed exactly like the recording (with two exceptions). There were awkward pauses between the shows when they changed instruments - between almost every song. Seems like he could have played the same guitar for a few songs before switching, but what do I know about guitars?
Oh, and Tom Petty is arrogant. He kept putting his arms out in a glorify-me kinda way - and that's just what the crowd did.
I learned, too, that it doesn't matter if you buy the second-most-expensive seats in the place ... all the weirdos will still be seated right behind you. Granted, there were just two seats behind us, but I think they must have been communal tickets for a group of weirdos who bought lawn seats.
The show started with this couple in their late 50s seated behind us, both drunk as skunks, with the wife drinking a margarita from a giant whale bone. No lie. When the show started, she got really freaky. She kept yelling strange stuff at Tom Petty (like he's going to hear that she loves him and other stuff). Then, she yelled something at Paul along the lines of "this is a rock-and-roll concert" and if he didn't like it, he could go home. Uh, what?! At one point, she actually scratched Paul on the back of the head. Still don't know what was happening there! I was seated to a nice Jewish boy who was there with his parents and brother. (He was maybe 19, tops, so I can call him a boy!)
The drunk lady (and I use the term loosely) left, then some drunk/high/gay(?) fighter pilots sat behind us. They were strange in a whole new way. One was giving the other career advice.
Side note: Isn't this the ideal situation for career counseling: Drunk and smoking pot at a Tom Petty concert?
They were very friendly and even offered to replace the drink they spilled on my feet. It wasn't even my drink.
At some point, too, the drunk husband of the crazy drunk lady came back, shouted something sort of threatening at Paul and then "spilled" his beer all over Paul's back. Nice!
Before we left, that whale bone rolled over my foot and into the foot of the nice boy beside me.
We decided to leave as the crowd was begging for an encore. It took us about 10 minutes to get back to the freeway. (It took close to an hour to get from the freeway to the show.)
We learned a few things last night: We should spring for the really good seats if we decide to go to another big concert. We're more of the Robert Earl Keen at Floore's Country Store kinda people. And, nothing beats coming home and snuggling your 3-year-old angel who has crashed out on the sofa because he loves the babysitter too much to be in bed alone!