or another whirl-wind shee-shee cosmopolitan 24 hours
Okay, so last week my fellow Old 97's/Rhett Miller enthusiast, Steph and I met up on a long grey stretch of highway and drove to the Big Apple to catch the blue-eyed lovely one play a completely unplugged, all-acoustic show at the Rubin Museum.
It's peculiar how things are now. Meeting people on the Social Internets is similar to having pen pals back in the stone age, only now the responses are immediate and the volume of connections are virtually limitless. You may recall, I became aware of Steph via this photo she posted with me and Geo standing in the background.
|Steph being all adorable with the man of evening|
(p.s.: thanks again for the great view)
Then she was part of our summer Rhettventure which is where we formally met face-to-face.
|Carrie, Samantha, Aidan, Charlotte and Miranda|
And now she's become one of my favorite people on this sticky webby. We get along swimmingly. We travel well together, have similar interests and the same warped 12 year-old boy sense of humor. She gets me, which is not always easy to find someone who does. I tease her that she's like the little sister I never had.
Anywho, once we figured out the exhausting hour-long dance of the Turnpike interchange and finally ended up in one car (don't ask) we made it to our hotel in Soho in record time. There was absolutely no traffic to speak of. None. Crazy, right? I mean, come on! It's NYC. There's always gridlock.
Right then we should have known this was going to be a great day.
The first sign of Providence was at the hotel check-in.
Clerk: I'm sorry. You're room is not available.
Clerk: I'm afraid all we have left is a Penthouse, but it only has a king size bed. I'm so sorry. It'll be the same price. Will that be okay?
Me: *does imaginary spit take all over the counter* HELLZ YEAH!!! I mean, I guess so. If we must...
Have I mentioned how much I love the Four Points Sheraton?
|our swanky Penthouse suite|
21st floor Mother Pluckers!!
So we go from a cramped single room to a two-room luxury SWEET! Holla!! OMG! Geo would have been in hog heaven. There was a ginormous 60" plasma in the bedroom hanging above the pocket doors. I probably wouldn't have seen him all night. HaHa!
our view at dusk
our view at night
The thing about following an artist around the East Coast is you cross paths over and over with other fans who travel from show to show. Okay, this is kind of pathetic, but we've been to so many events over the last couple of years that we now know a fair number of people in attendance. So many so that sometimes I feel like the Mayor of Millerville. The Rubin was no different.
While Steph and I chugged, er...I mean sipped daintily with pinkies up on a rich, full-bodied Pinot Noir, we chatted with Joslyn, Sheila, Marcy, Sarah, Tracey (who came directly from the airport-suitcase in tow) and a lovely new fan friend, India.
India and I were at many of the same New York shows, but never met until now. She and her husband are huge fans of Old 97's. She was there with two of her friends who were unfamiliar with Mr. Miller.
The Rubin is a museum dedicated to Tibetan arts and culture. The sold-out lecture hall was smaller and had the feel of an intimate house concert. Being uptight white people, everyone sat quietly, attentively listening to Rhett croon, until Singular Girl of course. All bets are off with that song. Our entire row sang the abandoned hydra line. You have to. I think it's mandatory to sing that lyric now.
Rhett's performance was his usual brilliance. He sang his heart out as always. It was refreshing to hear the newbies in the audience chuckle at some of his more clever lyrics. Who am I kidding. They're all smart, witty and engaging. Being so familiar with them, it's nice to be reminded via fresh ears how craftily written his songs are.
He performed a new song scribbled in his adorable puppy spiral-bound notebook. Puppy notebook... He's such a lovable dork. Rhett had written it that morning, inspired by one of the two pieces of art he chose from the Rubin collection to project on the back of the stage.
The Hungry Ghosts
Let the Whiskey Take the Reins
Songs about Tibet are overrated. Songs about whiskey, not so much.
Okay, so I know it's just a coincidence, but I like to think he threw in Lashes just for me. That's my story, dammit.
At the end, he was presented with a long white scarf by the moderator.
The only disappointment of the evening was he didn't do a meet and greet. Oh well. It's not like I'm never going to see him perform again, right?
The festivities continued when Marcy, Sarah, Tracey, Steph and I all piled into the back of the driver, Tony's car and headed to Dos Caminos for an amazing Mexican dinner in celebration of Marcy's birthday. It felt like our own personal Sex In The City moment. I was the lone redhead so I guess I would have been Miranda. I imbibed enough to be Miranda.
We drank, dined and dished about anything and everything. The ladies shared entertaining stories of their collective adventures on the road, the cities they've been to, the zany people they've met along the way. It was so much fun! My face hurt from laughing so much. The tequila might have had something to do with it, too. I love these spirited Metropolitan Mavens.
And just like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, our New York adventure was over. We were back in our pumpkin, rolling West. But boy was it fun while it lasted.
Until next time...