Thursday, April 12, 2012

Do You Remember the First Time . . .

. . . that I saw Pulp?  It was on Tuesday.
Now let me tell you about the second time I saw them.  It was on Wednesday.

Why'd I go back?  Because life is for living, money is for spending, and it's hard to say "No" to fourth row seats.

I brought my Leica this time.  Took so many pictures I killed the battery.  Here's a few:






















Okay, here's the real story of how I got there: A certain Pulp over-enthusiast, now living in Alabama, texted me Wednesday morning to ask if I'd see Pulp again.  I responded "Of course I would" thinking I was being asked in the abstract.  Then I remembered who I was dealing with and realized I was being asked in the concrete.  Turns out she was so sickly jealous to be missing the shows that she bought a plane ticket to New York at 3 am Wednesday morning, called in sick and flew up here without tickets to the sold-out concert.  Frantic craigslisting lead to the miraculous landing of two seats in row DD (fourth row, not counting the orchestra pit) for Face Value.  So return I did.  The show was excellent, setlist was a tiny bit different, and the crowd was a little different, too: full of old people.  Meaning white hairs, wheel chairs.  Help the Aged, indeed.

Really, rock shows don't get much better.

3 comments:

kieren said...

I love that this story just made me miss that sweet, crazy, weirdo imp Amber Furst. I love her. I love that she did this. Hope you had fun at Pulp. Hope Jarvis rocked your socks off.

Mitch said...

Ditto.

Bek said...

if you can dream it, you can do it.