Wednesday, July 13, 2016

It's not me, it's you

Dear Wes,
           I used to think it was me.  That time I saw you in New Mexico?  At the cowboy bar/dance-hall?  When you opened for The Band? That was pretty surreal.  Earlier that day, I'd been herding sheep on the Navajo reservation or something, and then drove like a bat out of hell back to Albuquerque with just enough time to shower off the lanolin stink and high tail it over to the place where people went to Boot Scoot Boogie.  And then when I saw you twenty years later in a record store and they set the show up backwards so that everybody who walked into the store basically hit you with the door as they entered?  Good times, Wes, good times.  But tonight?  Tonight takes the cake.   Instead of playing an outdoor concert in the local amphitheater like everybody else in the summer concert series, you played in the lower school auditorium of the school where I teach and where my kids go. Apparently it was raining or some other excuse.  There you were, with a three to four piece band standing where my daughter did her amazon rain forest animals presentation in fourth grade.  It was all too surreal. The joke you made about missing the Dylan concert tonight even though you had second row tickets?  Dude, my boss offered me his extra FIRST ROW ticket, but I had to decline because I couldn't get a babysitter for the kids. (BTW, your kids play baseball with his kids and they all go to that other school.  There are only five people in Philadelphia, apparently) The woman I was sitting next to, who was trying to sell me tickets to the Pro-Ultimate frisbee championships on Saturday and I were the only people at the show under 50 but over 13 besides you (maybe, I'm trying to be generous here), your wife, and the band.  It's never a good sign these days when I'm below the median age of the audience.  But when you brought up the guest artist and the young woman/frisbee fan said, "Hey, that was my high school French teacher!"  That was it.  We're done, Wes.  I finally realized, I'm never going to see you in a normal show.  It's not me, it's you. 
-David
PS.  The gig was great.   Can't wait for the new album.
PPS. I'm looking forward to seeing you on a triple bill with a drag queen Runaways tribute band and the guy from Blue's Clues, just once for old time's sake.  But after that, were done.
PPPS  If you really want me back, you'll play this live sometime at a show I make it to.  

1 comment:

  1. And a friend reminds me of the time in Ann Arbor that I didn't see you because it was my birthday and people were hosting me for drinks at a local watering hole. Your opening act, Ellis Paul, crashed our table and I got to tell him the leprechaun penguin joke. Even when you're not there, you're still making my life surreal. Stop it, Wes. Just stop it. We're over.

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