We had a spectacular seafood potluck meal at Paul and Anna’s last night. Unbelievably good. Mike J, Victoria, Thomas, Paul, Anna, Myself and Paul in attendance. Marie and Pierre showed up in time to go to the concert.
The Powder Blues Band was uniformly tight and excellent and I have no regrets about the money spent to see them. However, as I left, I vented my opinion of the DJ by writing all over the condensation on his vehicle TOO LOUD DUDE!!!! TOO LOUD DUDE!!!!
Peaceful protest is better… it’s not like I could have made myself heard over the utterly bassed-out and distorted assortment of “classic rock” he was blasting out. I just loved watching what got people on the dance floor. Billie Jean pulled hardest; AC DC cleared the floor like a stink bomb, it was very amusing to watch. Then all of a sudden Frankie Goes Hollywood’s “Relax” comes on and I was interested to see that it didn’t have quite the dance floor emesis effect of AC DC. The guy I was sitting next to was surprised I knew what every tune was. It’s really hard to explain that it’s my JOB to know about pop culture references; what people really don’t get is how I can do it and not watch network tv. It’s a gift, what can I say. Tom and Peggy showed up later and Peggy danced quite a bit. I only danced for two tunes, being Love Shack (I’m sorry, but I cannot stay in my seat for that) and something the Powder Blues Band did. Then my hips and ankles started screaming something along the lines of “You twit, sit down”. So I did.
Now we’re off to church to do sound set up and I’m opening. La La. Then we do a shop.
Then we come home and listen to Katie complain about what it’s like not to have any cigarettes. She’s complaining about other things too these days, but with some justification, and to protect her feelings I won’t mention what. She did enough housework this week to get an allowance, so she actually has more money in her bank account than she has had since it opened.
