Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Monday, May 08, 2006
I don't know what it is about concert settings, but in the midst of live music by a band I adore- I will draw blood if provoked. Perhaps it's the late 90s mosh pit spillover (not that I would ever risk getting my shoes ruined and always stayed away from the action when possible) or maybe the need for me to have a memorable moment without undue obstruction, I have gotten into fights on more than one occasion. Lucky for me, I have always chosen my enemies wisely. I could have taken all of them if necessary. Now don't get me wrong, I am usually a very nice person, but don't push me.
Radiohead, 1995, La Luna
This was one of my first concerts, and probably the most memorable. We were three obsessed high school girls who drove up from Eugene, scouted out the venue early, and had an amazing Thom Yorke sighting in the East Portland industrial zone. I am sure he would have hung out with us had Yvonne not been so stoned and freaked out to scream at Robin to speed off after a long drawn out moment of staring. We stopped, he smiled, and we were cute. Case closed.
Later at the show, I was front and center until some girl in a furry coat pushed her way in at the last minute. Here I was trying to make a connection from earlier in the day, and Miss Retro Portland had to cut in. I used the furry hood of her coat to dispose of my chewing gum. Really ground it in there good.
Built to Spill, 1998, Wow Hall
It was summer, so most of the students were away and Eugene was a quiet, lazy town. The hall was hot and sweaty so I think it may have caused me to lose my sense of decency, since this was one of the worst things I have done to a perfect stranger. As the show got started some beautiful blonde girl snuggled up to the guy I was on the make for (now my husband.) She stepped right in front of me and all of a sudden the two of them were arm to arm. Perfectly poised behind her, I began to pull one of her lovely, gossamer hairs one by one. I got to three and she moved. She must have thought I was crazy, and in her defense, I was.
Talk Demonic, 2005, Doug Fir
I love the sound of this band. If you have ever been to a show at the Doug Fir and seen a band with less than 5 people on stage, drowing out the music and ruining THE ONLY FUCKING REASON I CAME HERE, it can get a little frustrating when the person behind you won't stop flapping their lip about something stupid and all you can focus on is their insipid conversation. I turned around and basically told this guy to shut up (not exactly "nicely"). He pretended like he couldn't hear me and then him and is fag-hag girlfriend decided to talk about how both of them couldn't hear me. "What did she say, oh I don't know, so anyways..." So I screamed it really loud, and got up in his pudgy little short dude face. My fists were tight, my pulse was jumpin and I was ready to throw down. They shut up and later I learned that he was the drummer of the unoriginal, souless opening band. Little concert etiquette needed - He of all people should know - no?
TV on the Radio, 2006, Doug Fir, and inspiration for this post...
I love this band. Thanks to my audiophile husband, I see a lot of shows, but this band rocks my world. I made sure I was front and center, and to be honest, I don't think I've done that since maybe Radiohead 1995. At the last minute some falling down, passing out dumpy girl runs straight into me and begins to fall on the floor. I believe shes ODing on something and feel bad for her, as opposed to holding her up for the rest of the show, I let her lean on the stage. Mission accomplished, as soon as the band came on she was doing great, waving her pudgy arms in front of my face. Rub it in why don't you. Toward the end I leaned down to make the comment that she seemed to be doing a lot better, and again, she couldn't hear me (sensing a pattern....) So I screamed in her ear and still she played deaf. I made my appreciation clear after the show. Don't worry, I didn't hit her. But she left saying, "I guess I know what kind of people live in Portland..." That's right honey, stay home.
Posted by Krystin at 6:28 PM
Thursday, May 04, 2006
When I was in India I recieved a lot of attention from everyone. Most of the white people who set foot in Vishakhapatnum are either Russian sailors or the token corporate lakey. Gurmeet, one of the nicest, sweetest people I met layed a pickup line on me I will never forget. This photo actually captures the moment. Here is what he is saying:
"You're dad must have been a terrorist because when he had you, he made a bomb!"
Seriously, he really said that....and I love him for it.
Posted by Krystin at 7:34 PM