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11.19.2002 -


So the Aimee Mann show I saw last night? So. fucking. great. She rocks. Rocks. And she's funny and sarcastic and whip-smart, just like you'd think she would be.

We sat up in the balcony of the Moore theatre, which had a pretty good view. Except for the guy in front of me with the giant melon head ("I'm crazy giant melon head man! Give me candy, because I'm crazy!"). Not only was his head ginormous, but he embarked upon a vigorous side-to-side swaying routine that lasted throughout the entire show.

People, you don't sway side to side when you're in close quarters, especially if you have a dirigible for a head! You employ the Modified Head Bang (or the Modified Blow Job, if you prefer a little naughtiness in your journal-perusal today), nodding forward and back so as to not completely obliterate the view of the person behind you.

Scrunching uncomfortably way over to the side addressed the intrusive head-blockage, although I still longed for a small, easily hidden cattle prod. I also sort of wished I'd brought opera glasses (not that I own any, or even know what distinguishes them from binoculars) so I could see as well as JB, who has X-ray vision.

Well, not really. But he does have superior vision, it's 20/whateverthehellisbetterthan20. It's because when the two of us had lasik surgery about 3 years ago, he went back for a touch-up where they calibrate your eyeball settings to "Bald Eagle" or something. Now he can see actual molecules in the air and stuff.

(Veering back to Aimee Mann with a comical "err-rrr-rr!" sound accompanied by an out-of-control steering wheel motion...)

We decided to spelunk the depths of the Moore in order to gulp overpriced beverages during the opening act. While we stood around the murky smoke-filled bar area, I idly jiggled the loose stair banister nearby. Suddenly a beefy guy wearing a white security uniform materialized next to us, his face filled with concern. He grasped the banister and yanked it back and forth worriedly. Moments later he brought what appeared to be an events promoter - some overly wired guy with pointy sideburns wearing a beanie (so hip!) - to peer at the banister. This was obviously becoming a Major Issue. The events guy rushed off to either get a pair of pliers or to desperately snort another line of coke in the men's room, and then there was this random small crowd of people all tugging on the banister and shaking their heads.

Why a loose banister should be such a big safety concern among myriad burnt-out exit signs, puddles of beer, and cracked toilet seats (ow), I can't fathom.

When the show was over - after *2 encores*, yay - it was around 11:30 PM, which made it the latest I've stayed up in...I don't know HOW long.

I know.


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