Have you ever been to a concert where the guy behind you insists upon singing EVERY word to every song?
Yeh, well that was the guy behind me last night at the David Crosby and Graham Nash concert. This friggin’ guy thought he was headlining! Imagine the big galoot belting out the words to Our House like a high school girl for G-d sake! “Our Houssssssse, is a very, very very fine Housssssse…”
Jeez bud, give me a break. For the ticket price I would prefer the traditional Crosby/Nash harmonies over you reminiscing in my ear, thank you very much.
It was an otherwise nice nostalgic show. But for some reason it took on the feeling of a Twilight Zone episode. When we first walked in my friend asked me if I had this odd feeling that we were at a terrible high school reunion. I looked around and realized that we were in a crowd of some of the sorriest looking souls I have seen in a long time. Hey, we were absolutely gorgeous in this crowd! (not a bad thing).
We took a walk to the outside deck before the show and suddenly this women started talking to us as if we were old friends. Donna was her name. Let me preface this with the fact that both Ellen and I have this personality trait that makes complete strangers spill their guts to us. Unsolicited, I might add.
Before we knew it we had good old Donna’s life story down. Two grown kids, widowed, took her kid to see Crosby and Nash in ’86 – partook in some questionable activities that led her son to grab the wheel when she was driving, legal secretary – semi-retired, fat stomach that caused her to hike up her pants and ask us if we had issues with our jeans falling down (I kid you not), loves salsa music prompting her kids to call her ‘Mambo’, lives in Queens, does not like the subway, refuses to learn how to text message and was trying like hell to get us to go back stage with her to meet the band.
Ooooooo boy, this was one surreal episode for sure. Our husbands came outside to find us hanging with good ol’ Donna and did not quite know what to make of her. Honestly, we were kind of into Donna. She had an ‘I don’t give a crap about anything at this point of my life’ kind of way that was actually quite refreshing.
Wait, wasn’t this supposed to be a post about the annoying fat guy singing behind me? I suppose this post took the same direction as the evening did.
Organic, in a bizarre sort of way.
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