My Two Cents on Muse

Like K and M, I’ve given Muse’s Black Holes and Revelations a spin or two. My two picks are Starlight and Supermassive Black Hole. I don’t know if I would recommend watching the video for Supermassive Black Hole though. You know how sometimes a video can fuck with the perception of a song you have in your head? This video does just that for me. Supermassive Black Hole has a sexy quality and except for the unmistakable Muse vocals, could be another track on Depeche Mode’s Violator. Watch the video and the sexiness is gone! You’ve been warned! --J

Muse's Black Holes and Revelations

One might think that I would be annoyed at the amount of vintage Queen I hear on this cd, but I can’t be. I pose the question to the gods: Is there anything truly original anymore anyway? The answer: No.

I can respect any band that is out and proud about their obvious influences. And no, M, that is not a comment on Coldplay or Keane (see Random Thoughts on a Friday Morning post below). I will forever be in trouble for that.

In my opinion, Muse has created a brilliantly bombastic fantasy piece. Beautiful melodies aside, a comb-through of the lyrics reveals a strong distaste for American culture, politics and corrupt leadership. It’s interesting because I’m so used to fantasy providing a bit of a veil for social commentary in the comics that I read, not so much in the music I listen to. Once I realized what this cd is really about, I developed a stronger appreciation for it (if that was even possible). I won't spend too much time commenting on the tracklist because politics has no place in this blog, but I decided to include a selection of lyrics from each to give you a taste of what I'm talking about and to "throw it out there". I strongly recommend this cd. -K

Take a Bow: …cast a spell/ On the country you run/…Now freedoms concealing itself/what we’ve become/ is contrary to what we want...
The crescendo of the music halfway through the song makes my little Bug vibrate. Happiness.

Starlight : Our hopes and expectations/ Black holes and revelations...
I wish I had written and composed this one. J and I went for a Starbucks the other day and blasted this on Olive. M likes to perform parts of this song in the office, haha.

Supermassive Black Hole: The first time M played this for me was the night of High Eyes. I was drunk and hated it. I couldn’t believe that Muse was writing that kind of crap. Now, I can’t get enough of it. When will I learn?

Map of the Problematique: /…Fear and Panic in the air...
Somewhere in any decent city, a gay bar will or is playing this song along with Interpol’s “Slow Hands”. I would love to be there when it does. (You and me, Lance Bass. You and me.)

Soldier’s Poem: Throw it all away/ Let’s lose ourselves/…It’s a shame we’re all dying...
When I’m alone I sing this song. And sometimes, when I forget that I’m not alone I sing this song.

Invincible: Follow through/Make your dreams come true/ don’t give up the fight/you’ll be alright/ Cos there’s no one like you/ in the universe...
Call to arms.

Assassin: Oppose and disagree/ destroy demonocracy...
“doodly noodly” guitar style, according to M. Music is painfully close to vintage Queen, but updated and still good. I almost suggested to J that her brother M (no relation to blog’s M) listen to this song since he is a Queen fan. We both agreed it was for the best that he doesn’t.

Exo-Politics: I am waiting patiently/ I’ll wait for a sign...
Last week, while J and I took her nephew D to the Pageant, I played this song and asked her if she did not hear “Like a Stone” by Audioslave. Anyway, this song references the Zetas, a folk lore race of aliens supposedly come to Earth to provide guidance. It's not them. Turns out it's just our leaders in disguise.

City of Delusion: Choose to hide from/All-Seeing Eye/…destroy city of delusion/break these walls down/I will avenge/and justify my reasons/with your blood...
Gee, I wonder if this is the All-Seeing Eye as in the freemason symbol on our dollar bill? The fictional enemy is talking here. The spirit of the chorus reminds me of the nationalistic music my Jordanian ex-bf used to play in his car in Huntsville.

Hoodoo: And I’ve had recurring nightmares/That I was loved for who I am/And missed the opportunity/ to be a better man...
The voice in this song is concerned about not standing up for what he believes in. The music is mysterious and oppressively tranquil.

Knights of Cydonia: This is a call for resistance. Cydonia is referring to the area on Mars that contained the notorious “Face of Mars”. The wild west music provides an interesting backdrop to an obvious reference to the god of war: Mars.

Glorious: Rose tinted view/And satellites that compromise the truth/…Faith, it drives me away/But it turns me on/like a Stranger’s love/It rockets through the universe/It fuels the curse/and leads me to be/glorious...
This is a bonus track on the album.

Colorado Bound

Comedy is around every corner! This morning on my way to work there was a moving truck towing a car on the expressway. The car had its windows shoe polished with the following message:

Colorado Bound

Up Yours Tennessee


There’s some really good stuff in the new August 2006 issue of Blender magazine, like the article “Stop, This is a Nightmare!” It describes various tantrums and/or mishaps of musicians on stage. There are some hilarious anecdotes including Scott Stapp’s drunken performance in Chicago that led to fans filing a lawsuit against him. My favorite, also in Chicago, took place at 2003’s Summer Sanitarium, where the audience yelled “Fred Sucks!” at Fred Durst. “Calling the set to an early end, Durst berated the crowd from the wings, boasting that limpbizkit was the greatest band in the world, until his microphone was taken from him”. I feel somewhat vindicated now that everyone is anti-Fred Durst. I always hated that band and the whole genre that spawned them.

They also have a little Q & A with Tommy Lee at the end. This was my favorite Q & A:

What would an ex-girlfriend say about you?

“He’s fun, he’s charming, he’s intense, he’s hyper, he’s passionate, he’s retarded”.

Self-aware? I think so. --J

A Pair of Drumsticks

As stated already, D did not like The Dresden Dolls set at the Panic! show. At some point during the concert, he texted me to tell me that he had a gift for me. I texted back, “Don’t spend your money!” He texted back, “Oh, I didn’t”. At that moment I was thinking of my husband H’s story from 1978 when he went to see a White Sox game and brought his sister home a pet rock. Because he had spent all of his money in the ballpark, the pet rock was a rock he found in the parking lot.

D came out and proudly presented me with the drumstick from The Dresden Dolls. We had a big laugh. Now I have a set! So when I get my drum kit, I can seriously rock with my left hand (Taylor Hawkin’s drumstick) and razzle dazzle with my right (Dresden Dolls).

Panic! In Herre

What the hell, St. Louis? We had a storm Wednesday night and it’s the following Monday and power has just been restored. Is that crazy?

The power outage dovetailed into my nephew D’s first solo visit to St. Louis. This same week, one of his favorite bands, Panic! At the Disco (with The Hush Sound and the Dresden Dolls) were playing at our favorite local venue, The Pageant. When the tickets first went on sale, K and I had considered going but in the midst of our waffling, they sold out. D was able to buy a ticket outside of the venue the night of the show. It was 102 degrees outside that day and the kids were lined up down the street waiting for the doors to open. They seemed to be unaware of the heat. Looking at the crowd, we all noted a predominance of 13 to 16 year old girls. This must have been a first concert for many. D texted me when Panic! was hitting the stage. Seeing as all we had to do was sit in a sweltering house with no electricity, my daughter A was anxious to go down with me to pick up D when the show was over. I called K and asked her if she wanted to ride down with us and check out the after show scene and she willingly came along. I figured a band with one album wouldn’t play long.

When we were standing in the back of The Pageant with some folks ready to hand out promotional stuff when the concert let out, we were approached by a homeless man, who, no joke, looked like a dust-covered, human version of the muppet, Animal. You know, the one that played drums. He launched into a life is real rough right now speech as he attempted to straighten his severely crooked, but unexpectedly trendy glasses. I gave him a buck and then he launched into a “Are you from around here?” speech. How does a homeless person have the latest in eyewear? His frames were more up to date than mine.

When D came out, I asked him if he wanted to wait and maybe see if he could meet the band. He asked if the electricity was back on at the house. When I told him, no, the wait was on. The security guards were assholes, telling the fans that the band was going to eat and relax and then MAYBE come out for autographs. K and I got yelled by security at three different times for standing in the wrong place. One time, the security guard kept yelling at us and we were oblivious that we were the point of irritation. K snarled back, “We aren’t even fans!” How dare he try and tell us to get in line. They informed people waiting for autographs that they could take pictures OF the band but not WITH the band, they could not kiss or hug the band, but they could “high five” the band. High five? Is that the most retarded thing you’ve ever heard? Do people actually high five each other, besides maybe when playing beach volleyball? I wanted to yell back at the security guards, “Fuck you!” because I knew the teeny boppers waiting in line were too nervous waiting for their chance to meet their heartthrobs, but I didn’t think that was a good thing to do in front of my kid. The “high five” only policy dashed the dreams of the 13 year olds waiting behind D. I heard one of them tell her friends, “I want to kiss all of them, and I hope ALLLL of us get to kiss all of them”. Eew.

I noticed that the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, tired of reporting on the blackout, reviewed the show. I was surprised to read that they covered Smashing Pumpkins and Radiohead. I bet most of their audience has no idea who those bands are.

D got his shirt signed and we got some pics. He enjoyed the show except for the two opening acts. It is hard to believe that the members of Panic! are 18 and 19 years old. D and I were discussing this. He thinks it would be so cool to be them. He said something like, “I’d give my left arm to be them!” Then he one-upped himself and said, “No, I’d give both my arms to be them!” I said, “D, no you wouldn’t. You couldn’t be them without arms”. He said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’d give my left toe”. Yeah, maybe that useless baby one on the end. --J

Panic! and A.

My Daughter, A, is in the right corner, oblivious to Brenden Urie, lead singer of Panic!, behind her.

Poker Face in Lansing

My brother S called me when I got into town a few weeks ago to invite me out to see our local favorites, Poker Face, in Lansing, Illinois. A good time was had by all, as you probably read in the K post “A Little Drinkie”. The band was trying out a new lineup. After several shots of tequila, my sister-in-law, M, was yelling to the new guitar player to “Zip It!” She didn’t care for his small talk between songs.

You know how sometimes you can be sober enough to tell you are being obnoxious from drinking but not sober enough to control yourself? That was me, when M, our favorite lead singer came over to chat and my sister-in-law took a cocktail and began writing several songs down for the band to play. I didn’t get a good look at the list, but I am sure they were country songs since that’s her fave. I told M that there was only one new dance tune the band needed to learn – “Train in Vain”, as I obnoxiously scrawled that on a napkin. I think M’s response was something like, “We have new guys in the band. If I tell them we’re gonna play The Clash they’re gonna freak out”.

Well Clash or no Clash, I’ll be happy to see Pokerface again next time I’m in town. --J

RFT Approved!

Judakris was picked as the "Local Blog O' the Week" by Riverfront Times, our favorite local paper. My brothers however, no approval there, but that's okay (single tear running down my cheek). --J

Message Boards, Fanfiction, and Insane Poetry

When I finish a task at work and am in need of clearing my head I like to visit some mindlessly entertaining websites. I'm especially fond of message boards and live journals. I'm a lurker which means I don't actually post anything, but I get a kick out of reading everyone else's posts. For those that do what I do, you know that there are fans that post just for the sake of imparting information, like when the next tour is starting, for example. There are also those that post to belong to a community. The latter posters usually want to connect with others out there in the virtual world who share a commonality or just get attention. There are also those that create mindboggling fanfiction in which fictional stories of the subjects of interest are entwined in some bizarre love triangle or perverted situation. I'm not judging here, but sometimes I am amazed at what is created in the anonymity that the internet offers.

One of the sites I go to is a live journal dedicated to Ville Valo. The requirement of this site is that if you post, you must post at least one picture of Ville as well. This talented musician, I have learned since becoming a fan, has a private life that is open to such public scrutiny that I almost feel pity. Some of this has to do with his antics and some just has to do with the fact that the majority of his female fans love discussing who he's dating and why he shouldn't be.

This afternoon, after discovering some fangirl poetry that was written in reaction to news that Ville has recently gotten back together with old flame Jonna Nygren, M and I decided that we need to finally create some sort of emotional poetry of our own in response. As you will see, we've tried to mimic one of the more outstandingly strange posts, but have taken it one step further.

Disclaimer: Don't even think we're being serious here with this poetry. And also, people, what he does in his private life is no concern of ours. And, chances are, he doesn't go anywhere near boards or websites dedicated to worshipping the Ville Valo persona. Let him be with the private life talk, but keep posting the lovely pics 'cos that man's beautiful face has healing powers.;) -K

Untitled K

Die
Die
Die
Die motherfucker
until you know that
Just one look into your eyes
and I want to stab them until you see
the truth [for sooth!]
that I see:
That she doesn’t love you like I do
No one will love you like I do
And I do
And I will
And I do

Untitled M

I pray for
Mercy
For your Vampire Heart
as I cry
a Fortress of Tears
You say join me in Death
as you use
and abuse your
Self
Light another cigarette
as you kill yourself slowly
hate yourself to death
and chase another
who loves you less
than you love yourself.

A Little Drinkie!

So, yesterday after work I headed down to the Pageant to pick up a concert ticket. When I parked my car behind the venue, I was immediately approached by a U City local who asked for some money. I had no cash and honestly could have just said so, but for some reason I decided to start speaking German as though I didn’t understand English. I don’t know- it was just a reflex. It worked, but only after he decided to speak louder to me and held up three fingers to try and communicate what he needed. I’m an idiot.

Can I just say that I always get little butterflies when I walk around The Pageant? Ah, bliss.

After I completed my task, I texted J that I got my ticket. She didn’t reply right away. I knew she was probably absorbing this information. It was a trip to the grocery store, a movie and a meal later when I received a reply via text:

I can’t take it if u become an afi fan.

Look, the ticket I bought yesterday was for the July 30 AFI show. The only reason I’m going is because I want to see these guys for myself before I totally judge. I am not a fan, nor am I in danger of becoming one. However, I know not to be too emphatic about it because the last time I declared my strong resentment for a band my black VW bug ended up with their heartagram sticker on it. J has never been on board with HIM, and well, whatever, that’s FINE!

What cracks me up about receiving this text when I did is that J was out with her brother at a local bar in Indiana watching a band play. It seems a little alcohol was needed before she could reply.

Just for comic relief, I thought I would include a few more texts from J last night that made me smile:

Yeah I wish u were here. A little drinkie!

I’m being shot down for my [musical] taste. But we’re doing shots so its ok now

I’m gonna be so hungover

Anyway, I will go see AFI on July 30 at The Pageant without J who will conveniently be out of town that weekend. A review is guaranteed.

Dave Talks, Gerard Listens

Since I was a teenager I have loved reading the British metal mag Metal Hammer. The writers in this magazine tend to avoid the usual snide and jaded commentary that you find all over these days. The articles and reviews are very realistic, but not meant to tear down anybody. I can appreciate that. This payday, like I do every other payday, I trekked down to my local Borders and picked up the latest issue. In the July issue there is a concert review for MCR who played this summer at the Give It a Name Festival (Earls Court, London).

The MCR review includes a picture of Gerard who is looking hot in a black velvet rugby blazer and silk tie. The reviewer observes that they are performing more and more like the stadium band they soon will be. Gerard has for some time stopped wearing the heavy makeup, which, I swear, is Dave Grohl’s influence. In a 2005 Spin issue, Dave commented on the beauty of the song Helena, but cautioned that the band will regret the makeup. Oh Dave- a soothsayer thou art!

2006 in America is missing MCR. Here's to the 2007 Judakris concert schedule, which will undoubtedly include more than one MCR show! -K

New York Doll by Judakris

Protopunk is a term I’ve recently come across. It describes something that is a precursor to punk rock. This is exactly what you learn about the glam-punk group New York Dolls in the documentary New York Doll. In this documentary, there are several well-known commentators like Sir Bob Geldof, Chrissie Hynde, and Morrissey who wax nostalgic on the impact this band had on their lives and on their respective music scenes. I always knew of the New York Dolls because all of my favorite 80s glam/hair metal bands cited them as an influence. Having watched the documentary, which thankfully includes original NYD songs, I am amazed at that I had never heard any of their music. It was painfully clear that so many bands today incorporate their sound.
The story within the story of New York Doll is that of Arthur “Killer” Kane, the original bassist. His story is an engaging and touching one. In his words, “I was demoted from a rock star to being a schlep on the bus”. After losing everything to alcohol and finding God through the Church of Latter Day Saints, he finally found peace while working inside the LDS center library in Los Angeles. He still held onto the dream of reuniting the Dolls, which happened one last time for him at the Meltdown Festival organized that year by Morrissey, one of their biggest fans. I agree with J that the final song of “Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want” was extremely fitting.
I loved the two adorable LDS Center sisters, now in the later years of their lives, demurely joking about being Arthur’s groupies. One thing that struck me was Arthur’s enthusiasm of the hotel room in London. In a very endearing way, he describes so many things in the room that he felt made his apt back home look like a dump. All I kept thinking was how I could imagine exactly what the chairs feel like, what the drapes feel like, and what the room smells like. I highly recommend this one as being a fan is demonstrably not a prerequisite for enjoying it. -K

I found this quote on msn.com and had to share. Britney Spears is describing her desire to get back on stage…
I can't wait to do that again," Spears, 24, tells Harper's Bazaar in its August issue, on newsstands July 25. "But I really have to take my time and do it right and be safe. Actually ... not that safe. When you perform, you have to be dangerous."
Since Brit cannot wow us with cutting edge performances, I have an alternative suggestion. Check out the documentary New York Doll. Be sure to watch the extras like the interview with the director and Morissey. The documentary chronicles the rise, fall, and rise again of Arthur “Killer” Kane and his band, The New York Dolls. Wow, sometimes true stories seem more like a movie script than fiction. Using “Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want” as the closing song of the film fit perfectly
I saw the New York Dolls perform last year in Baltimore. The only original members left were David Johanson and Sylvain Sylvain. I wish I would have seen this documentary before the performance because I probably would have appreciated it more. -J

Punk - L.A. Style

I’m on vacation this week so I brought my daughter, A, down to the city pool. I’m sitting here under an overcast sky reading a book while she swims watching two lame lifeguards compare their dance moves to Maroon 5’s This Love blasting over the P.A. Is this what suburban moms do all summer? Yikes, I’m not missing much.

The book I just finished was We Got the Neutron Bomb by Marc Spitz and Brendan Mullen. It documents the late 70’s to early 80’s punk music scene in Los Angeles. I like the way it is written because it is basically strings of quotes categorized by topic. The L.A. scene definitely has its own flavor compared to the Brits or New York City. Who knew that such varied acts as The Germs, The Go-Go’s, The Blasters, X, Black Flag, and Los Lobos came out of the same scene? M, you might like to read this one! Lots of quotes from The Go-Gos!

X is currently on the road. If you have a chance to see them, I would recommend it. I saw them in 2003 and they were very good, although Exene seemed a bit fragile.

The first chapter, which makes a case for Jim Morrison being the godfather of punk, is worth reading. I heard Iggy Pop tell the same story on a music show and it killed me! There is a documentary that was made called The Decline of Western Civilization about the scene that is not released on DVD. Of course some of the main players state in the book that the documentary did not fully capture the scene. Until it is released, a good companion doc is Mayor of Sunset Strip. The documentary focuses on the life and times of Rodney Bingenheimer, who is quoted in the book quite a bit. This documentary is a fascinating look at the L.A. music scene, but most of all about being a fan or being near celebrity. Be ready for a laundry list of celebrities making an appearance and also some sad moments. Feeling something! --J

Speaking of Dave Grohl...

J's post about the Champaign show is cracking me up. It was a party, for sure. The after-show meet and greet solidified my love for the guys. They were totally cool. I didn’t care one bit that I had to go to work in a few hours. I would sacrifice sleep for these guys any time (Ok, I don't mean it in that way! YES I DO!).
Speaking of work, I know I should try and keep work and private life separate, but I need to give up that endeavor. I have too many friends and acquaintances in my customer base and in the company that will prevent this job from ever being any other 8-5er. In 2005, I was in Fairfax, VA (Hi-oh, Dave!) to meet a client and discuss upcoming projects. At noon, one of the contacts from the site, A, and I went out to grab some lunch for the staff and started chit chatting about the area and his family. He mentioned that he has a son who is obsessed with music (he is currently at Rock Camp), especially David Bowie. "A" revealed that he was a big Bruce Springsteen fan and how he was originally from New Jersey, etc. It was the first time I had met, A, and I was so pleased to know we had music in common. The conversation meandered to Dave Grohl, who, I knew, had gone to school in the Fairfax area. I told him that my “friend” was a huge FF fan and that we were planning on seeing them soon since they were on tour to support In Your Honor. He acknowledged this and said that there had recently been in article in the newspaper about Dave’s academic history. He forwarded me this email, which I promptly sent to J. Needless to say, he gained credits in our book after forwarding this to me. Note that he thought my use of the term "friend" was me wishing to protect my identity. -K
K:
For your 'friend' from the Sunday Washington Post

Readers Tell Us

Annandale writes: I have known David Grohl since he was a young lad and noticed an error in your "Shout Out" [Oct. 19]. David did not attend Annandale High School, but rather Thomas Jefferson High School (before it was a magnet science and tech school).

Ah, the old "I knew Dave Grohl when . . ." It's the Northern Virginia thirty-something equivalent of "Yeah, Woodstock, I was there , man . . ." Look, we're all in favor of name-dropping (have we mentioned that we have an ex-boyfriend whose best friend was in a band with Grohl and a best friend whose ex-boyfriend was in a band with Grohl?). Still, we've always been suspicious of all the people who claim to have gone to high school with the Foo Fighters frontman. There couldn't be that many! (Or could there . . . ?)

We asked the folks at the Fairfax County Public Schools to look up Grohl's permanent record (they really keep this stuff!). Turns out the best rock drummer of his generation did, indeed, make the rounds during his school days. So as a public service to all of you trying to check the veracity of your buddies' pre- Nirvana stories, we present the official academic journey of David Grohl:

Thomas Jefferson High School, Alexandria, 1983-84
Bishop Ireton High School, Alexandria, 1984-86
Annandale High School, 1986-87, dropped out.

Foo Fighters at the University of Illinois

On K’s birthday we were driving to Champaign to see Weezer/Foo Fighters at the University of Illinois. For some reason, many of our favorite bands did not come to St. Louis this year so once again, we were road tripping it. It had been a stressful couple of months. Our company had recently bought another company and things were crazy. I had planned to take the next day off, but K planned to work since Champaign is only about 2 and a half hours from St. Louis.

I was shocked how many people in the audience were hardcore Weezer fans. While I like a few of their songs, I’ve read one too many interview with Rivers Cuomo and his reluctant rock star shtick. These frat boys sitting behind us were all “Dude, are you gonna stay for Foo Fighters?” “Dude, I don’t know”. “Dude, I just want to see fuckin Weezer man!” I was thinking to myself, yeah, why don’t you move along fellas. We had great seats but the numbering in the arena was weird. I never got a handle on it but let’s just say I had confronted someone for being in what I thought was our seats and it turned out they weren’t. And we in turn got confronted by two separate groups of people thinking we were in their seats but we were in the right then. It was strange. During the Weezer show, they pulled a guy from the audience who got to play along with them and they gave him an acoustic guitar.

Foo Fighters, as usual, put on one hell of a show. Having seen them a number of times in the past, this seemed like the biggest stage production of their careers. I was impressed and was now in disbelief that I was not really looking forward to the show due to the stresses of work that week. This is exactly what I needed. Dave did scale a very small ledge in the arena, walking pretty close to us on the balcony. Call me a mom, I almost couldn’t watch, afraid he would fall. By the end of the show, it felt like a great big party it was so loose and everyone was having such a good time.

After the show there was a party atmosphere in the parking lot so we hung out hoping that maybe we could get some pics of the band after the show. In situations like that, I always feel compelled to look around the crowd to see if I’m the oldest person there. Since Champaign is a college town, most people fell into the same demographic, but there was one woman who definitely looked older than us. I feel as though as long as I am around the same age as the band, meeting them shouldn’t be weird, but I think some of the young tuffs waiting around with us feel differently on the topic. Hey, Dave’s a year older, it shouldn’t matter!

The kid with the acoustic guitar from Weezer was out there and kept playing. At first it was charming, but it got way annoying as the night went on. His fifteen minutes were up but he was trying desperately to keep all the attention on him. Taylor came out first and signed stuff. I told him to bring his solo stuff to St. Louis and we talked for a minute about that. One of the security guards then stated that the rest of the band would be coming out but people had to stay behind the barricades. It was all very serious. Well, we waited for hours. I kept looking at K, saying do you want to wait? She had to be at work in the morning but she was fine with waiting. Just as we were about to pack it in, around 2:30am, Dave and Chris came out. It was strange how the security guards made such a big deal about us keeping our distance but when Dave came out, he was helping people with their digital cameras, taking pictures, and chatting, all outside of the barricade. I won’t even document the banter I had with him. I really do get starstruck and I was at that moment, so I sounded like an idiot. I did take a picture with him that I would not show to many people. When I sent it to my friend R, in DC, he laughed and said, “You look like that runaway bride from Georgia! Your eyes are like the size of half-dollars, what happened to you?!” There’s another pic that K took that I am attaching that has on the left of the frame, a sliver of my face, and on the far right of the frame, it is unmistakably Dave’s arm. He had just walked away from signing a shirt that I had. It captures the moment perfectly.

So it’s now close to 3:00am and we get a Rockstar at the gas station and drive home. We’re pumped, reliving the concert and the meet and greet for about an hour of the drive. When we finally see the Gateway Arch in downtown St. Louis (around 5:30), I am practically hallucinating from lack of sleep. --J