Keeps me searchin' for a heart of gold

Pink Floyd music reminds me of parties where the entire crowd of atendees are waiting for the foreshadowed excitement. It's not that the party is bad-but it just seems the whole time that something more interesting should be happening. Classic rock satellite radio is madly in love with Pink Floyd. Some punk kids at a recent show had Sex Pistols patches on their satchels next to Pink Floyd stickers-this struck me as being somewhat incongrous. But who am I to say? I deemed myself too old to battle the crowds to see the band they were all clamoring to see. Maybe next year, maybe...if I get more sleep that weekend.

This week Neil Young was recording a film to go along with his new album. Maybe a DVD, maybe a theatrical release. I am not entirely sure. At any rate-there was a bunch of buzz about it. He had control of the Ryman from Monday on to Friday or Saturday and people were talking about all of the people who were supposed to be at the taping. Everyone from Oprah to Chris Rock were rumored. I dunno if that ever panned out. I know I was in the audience, however. I am not a celebrity-but I am willing to play one on TV.
Thursday night was the first night of the two night stand. I didn't even TRY to get into that-maybe I should've, but I had to work WAY too early on Fri. But the lawyer said that he thought I could get into the show if I was in the right place at the right time. Well...what do you get if you don't try? I'd taken care of a couple of dogs-of the crazy terrier types and almost forgotten about the show. I was almost home when I did a U-turn on Main St. and headed downtown to the Ryman. When I got there it did not look good. It looked quite bad-as there were many people that were doing what I was doing--bargaining that there might be a couple of tickets. Money couldn't buy these things-they were strictly something to be won or acquired by luck. The hottest ticket in town no one could get.
T was standing outside, he already had his ticket. He pointed me to a bald chap with a stack of tickets. This hairless gentleman was somewhat hesitant to give me a ticket-I didn't exactly look like the sort of person that they might be bargaining for in the audience. For example, I was having an unfortunate hair day. And I'd been up since 3am. But I got in. Amazing as that is. Half the capacity of the Ryman is a little over a thousand people. I would say that the building was at about 1/3 what with the floor being off limits. There weren't a lot of tickets available. My mind is still a bit blown.
Due to some streak of events I ended up in the 6th row from the front-about halfway back in the balcony-right in the middle. this would've been the perfect seat had not there been a TERRIBLY ENTHUSIASTIC trucker cap wearing tight short shorted dude directly in front of me. Now, don't misunderstand-I am all for excitement. And this was exciting-I was excited-it was wild wacky stuff-but I am not for standing on the pews of the Ryman and jumping up and down on same and yelling WOO!!!! in between of every other smegging song. In fact, I am opposed on moral grounds to this. I am also not in support of people that dance in a manner completely lacking rhythm or awareness of the song being played-once or twice a night this is fine-at a show with an area set aside for dancing-where dancing is encouraged or at the very least reasonable help yourself have a ball and expect to see me in the non-obtrusive dance area-BUT in a situation wherein dancing may result in discomfort or intense annoyance to those in yr general vicinity-esp if yr getting down to every feckin song don't be a jerk dammit. I think this should be illegal-possibly punishable by stoning performed by the offended audience members.
That guy being the exception I had a wonderful evening. The first part of the night was the new CD "Prairie Wind" played all the way through. Then after a intermission of 15 minutes he came back and played a bunch of the classics like "Heart of Gold" and "Harvest Moon" and etc. He had some great musicians playing with him-the Fisk Jubilee Singers, the Nashville String Machine, his wife Pegi and Miss Emmylou Harris. Yeh, Emmylou was singing back up much of the night. That was really rather groovy.
Looking forward to the release of the DVD or movie or whatever it was that was being recorded.
On Saturday I had lunch at some bar and grill and chatted with a couple of Australians. They were interesting. Then I went grocery shopping. Today I worked at *$ and left a note stating in no uncertain terms that I would not be whoring around there anymore following next Friday (or at the VERY VERY latest) the Friday after that-but only on the understanding that my availability changes to the point that it really is more like UN-availability. I fully expect that Her Pregnant Self will be bordering on unbearable to be near tomorrow and for the rest of my tenure in coffee world. Such is life-c'est pas de moi probleme.
Time to do something with that chicken I've been thawing and watch large quantities of SVU.