The concert shirts were the original Bizarro LP (dark green background with orange splotch), and came in the cutest little vacuum-sealed t-shirt-shaped package. I made The Boy buy one for me--I say "made" because I was stricken with an attack of shyness, and refused to approach the merch area since David Gedge was manning it with his lady friend (who knows her man so well, that she was ready with a new guitar tuned and ready for each song and for mid-song guitar-string breakage). While I was dying in the crowd acting like I wasn't really stalking the merch area, Viola Lady just went right up to Mr. Gedge and demanded a shirt (I'm sure there was a "please" involved, because she is one of those really sincerely sweet people). She has played with a lot of famous people, so maybe it is easier of her to demand concert shirts. I've only given James Taylor some coffee and when he was surly about me not giving him a "cap" for the cup, I was surly in return and pointed where he could go pick one up himself. It would have been much better if I could have just punched him in the nose. Ahem.
David Gedge was rocking so hard, we kind of got worried and hoping that he was not going to drop dead of a heart attack on stage, ala Mark Sandman of Morphine (I wasn't there for that show seeing as it was in Italy, but I think I'm forever haunted by the image of what that must have looked and felt like to the audience). Wikus assured me that he though Sandman did lots of drugs (which in theory would mean that he was assuring me that Mr. Gedge does not do or has done in the past a lot of drugs--Wikipedia in mum on the subject). We also spent some time guessing Gedge's age--prompting me to look it up this morning. Happy 50th to you, sir, on April 23rd.
We totally fell in love with the young drummer. The Boy insisted that the drummer must have been 4 when Bizarro was released. I have no proof of this, but he was certainly refreshingly young and energetic. He also mouthed "four" a lot on the fourth beat. Charming! I had lascivious thoughts. The guitarist looked bored out of his mind, and he seems to be having more fun at Denny's the next morning. As always Terry de Castro played with finesse (has anyone watched how elegant her hands look as they dance around the bass strings. I'm not kidding, it is a beautiful thing to watch).
Obviously, I took the day off from work. Slept late, bought some make-up, got myself all gussied up for a new driver's license photo, and was not surprised that the black-and-white copy of the temp photo reflects a woman who looks like there is a gun to the back of her head, and a Hummer bearing down on her in the middle of a deserted country highway on a moonless night. Also seems to be a fan blowing my curly hair straight off my face in an unflattering manner. The DPS lady pronounced the picture good. I was so nice to her, why does she hate me?
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Just spent the last few minutes doing Google searches on Vicki Lewis' ass. Before I get in to why I was doing that, can I just say that the search "Vicki Lewis butt News Radio" string yields very interesting results in Google image? When I say interesting, amp that up to horrifying. I refuse to link to any of it, and leave you to do your own searching.
I was recently complaining to an acquaintance about the size of my ass. During this conversation, it was revealed that this friend, has on occasion, pleasured himself while thinking of Vicki Lewis' ass. How's that for a thought? Now, is my ass bigger or smaller than hers? This is what I need to know.
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Listening to KUT this afternoon I learned that Austin is lacking in 3,000 miles of sidewalks. It is kind of a running joke how sidewalks disappear in this town. Or dead-ends in stairs. If you want to have a long, raging conversation about sidewalks in Austin, buy Wikus a drink and ask, "so, what are your feelings about the lack of sidewalks in this town?" Projections to complete the missing sidewalks under current funding would take 160 years. Make sure to mention that to Wikus. It would be a great button to push.
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