or Old 97's summer fun run, Part Tres
Some days are better than others...
Okay, so after spending the night at the La Quiiieeeen-ta, (sorry, you just have to say it that way), I hopped on the subway and met my honorary little sis, Steph at Penn Station.
All. by. myself.
Dude, that is huge. You have no idea how huge that is. I'm totally directionally challenged. It's pathetic. I instinctually head the wrong way, yet miraculously always end up finding my destination. Weird. A psychic once told me I have an Indian spirit guide who leads me. Man, that cat must be exhausted. I wouldn't be surprised if he puts in for a transfer.
Anyhoo, have you ever experienced a day that was beginning-to-end perfect? A day where through no effort of your own, everything just falls into place with beautiful synchronicity. Last Thursday was that day.
Steph and I decided to spend this rare, comfortable, sunny summer day at Coney Island. On the way to the subway station, we stumbled upon a charming little Mexican restaurant where we ate chips, fresh salsa, burritos and kick-ass Margaritas for, get this... $25!
For realz. We should have known the day was going to be special from that alone.
|Welcome to Coney Island!|
|view from the schwings|
|pre brain freeze|
|probably not the most effective use of condoms|
|Nice nips, Nancy|
|two classy chicks hanging at the park|
|could this sign be any creepier?|
Side note: Everytime we stepped off of a ride, Steph's shirt buttons would be undone. She was getting mechanically groped in a purely New Yawk way. WTF? "Welcome to Coney Island. Now off with dat dere button, sweethawrt." Ha Ha Ha!!
And then I got shit on...literally.
No shit! (pun intended) I was standing there, minding my own bidnez, taking a picture of the original Nathan's hot dog shop when I felt a nauseating, wet plop on my head. Steph confirmed my horror with a shriek followed by an insuppressible giggle.
Seagulls are dicks, yo.
|post bird shit|
we are not amused
Running late for the show, we ordered sushi delivery. Two rolls, soup and edamame for 20 bucks?!? Are you kidding me? First cheap and tasty Mexican with Margaritas, now this. You rock, Brooklyn! Maybe there is something to this nutty notion that getting pooped on is good luck...
hello there handsome
The first night was terrific, but this night, WOW... I don't know if it was the larger crowd, the cooler, temperate weather or being better rested from not having to travel between cities in a cramped Sprinter, but whatever the reason, they were en fuego!! They all were fired up, having a GREAT time feeding off the positive vibe gushing from the masses and taking the time to goof with the audience.
Having fun with teeny tiny bottles of Jameson:
Rhett was all playful with the crowd, charming his adoring fans with a nod and a smile, Murry kept his end of the stage humming by sharing his bass with fans, Philip was joking with Rhett between songs, and Ken... Ken was super charged, owning his role as master shredder.
It's no secret how much I love these guys. I love their bottomless energy. I love their unmatched commitment to rock your face off live. I love that they look like they're having as much fun playing as we are being swept up in the riptide of their musical juggernaut. They never ever phone it in. But I think what I love most about these four wonderful fellas is how kind they are to their following.
Thursday was my friend and uber fan, George's birthday. They dedicated not one, but three songs to him, W. Texas Teardrops, the lovely Lashes (more for his wife, Maria than George),
and a through the roof version of If My Heart Was a Car.
George was grinning from ear to ear. Hell, he's probably STILL grinning. They went above and beyond to make his night an event he'll never forget.
By the time Ken took his final leap on the last note of Time Bomb, a sense of euphoria had set in. The kind of satisfaction that's so complete, it can sufficiently tide me over until the next time our paths cross. God, they rock my world. Walking back to the La Quiiieeeeeenta, reliving the events of the day, I couldn't stop smiling. I'm smiling now.
It really was a perfect day.
So let's review: two meals each for around $20 bucks, laughing to tears at Coney Island and an off-the-charts concert by my favorite musicians. Maybe there is something to this bird shit on the head thing being lucky...
Right now is a pretty good time.