Wednesday night we went to the REO/Styx concert. I am not particularly fond of either band, but some friends were going and Tom likes Styx, so off we went. Actually, I don’t really care for live music period, which is an obscenity as far as most people are concerned, but I don’t concern myself with most people.
So we left the goddess, who was sickly, in the tender care of her older brother, and off we went. We were 100 yards away from the house when my phone rang. “Mom,” John said, “do I pour the macaroni noodles in the water?” He was making Kraft mac and cheese, a feat my golden retriever could probably accomplish.
“Read the directions son,” I told him.
“It says boil the water and pour the noodles in; so when do I add the noodles?”
“READ THE DIRECTIONS SON,” I repeated rather forcefully.
“I DID read the directions,” he said. “When do I add the noodles????”
It’s these times that make me fear for the cotinued survival of our species on the planet. “John,” I said, “do you know what boil means?”
“Yeah,” he said defensively.
“Is the water boiling right now?”
“When the water BOILS ADD THE DAMN NOODLES!!!!!!!!”
As I hung up, I wondered if this would be the tone for the evening. We got through dinner ok, though, and headed to the concert. I did make the rather colossal error of calling Amy, who was spending the night with her friend across the street, and asking her to go tell John to pick up the phone at one point, but that’s not really what this story is about.
- A hairstyle that is formed by cutting the hair short on the the top and sides and allowing it to grow longer in back.
Let us go on to add the hairstyle reached its peak popularity during the 1980’s when one Billy Ray Cyrus sported a mullet so long and perfectly coiffed it brought grown women to their knees.
Before I continue my tale, let me add that I, too, had a mullet in the 1980’s. However, my mother died during that time and I received very bad style advice from my stepmother. My mother would have never sanctioned a mullet and would have saved me from myself!
Anyway, as we strolled into the amphitheater Wednesday night, there, right in front of me, was a gentleman with a glorious man of silvery hair, hanging halfway down his back, styled in a perfect mullet. I raised my eyes heavenward in thanks; I knew it would be a great evening!! I also wanted to make sure my friend Jenny was watching from heaven; we were always on mullet watch together!!
As we strolled toward our seats, I was in sensory overload. There were creepy people everywhere and my brain couldn’t process them all. Once we sat down, though, I was able to survey them at my leisure. Ten rows in front of us was a mullet that would have made Billy Ray envious. It was perfect in every way and you could tell the gentleman was proud of it because it was so well kept. Mullets were all around us: permullets (permed on top); bushy mullets; short mullets; femullets(female mullets); and scraggly mullets. We wondered aloud what kind of person you had to be to cling to a hairstyle that is reviled by all of Western civilization. A person stuck in another decade, I guess!
The concert started and REO limped out onto the stage with their walkers….ok, not really. I have to say for a bunch of old dudes, they were remarkably sprightly! Twelve rows down, a portly gentleman in blue leapt to his feet, obscuring my view of the stage. As the band launched into “Keep on Lovin’ You”, one of three songs I knew they sang, he whipped out his air guitar and began gyrating wildly, singing and adding corresponding hand motions in case we couldn’t follow the lyrics. I personally thought he was much better than the band.
About halfway through their set, people sat down and the demeanor was generally calm. My hearing became nonexistent due to the loud thrumming of the bass guitar. I spent my time watching the drummer and became even more convinced that my destiny is to be a rock and roll drummer. Never mind that I have no rhythm whatsoever and that my hand-eye coordination is non existent. I want to be up on stage, seated behind my massive drum set (see, the idiots on guitar have to jump around like maniacs while the sensible drummer stays put!) and pound on the drums and fling my hair around. I like it!
Once REO finished, there was a break to change sets. We hit the bathrooms, got some popcorn and then sat down to wait. Tom admired the lady in front of us who had a tank top with the cleavage held together by small chains; I think I know what I’m getting for mother’s day next year!!
Well, the seats around us had been empty to that point, but suddenly a group of scary, old bikers materialized behind us. They were incredibly drunk and obnoxious and when Styx materialized on the stage, they came to life. They were loud, calling out requests as if the band could hear them from the stage 200 yards away and over the music and noise of the crowd.
Well, the lead singer started talking and this did not set well with Mr. Scary Old Biker Dude. “No more, man, no more,” he yelled. “Give us what we want Man!!!!!” I was genuinely trying to listen because it seemed to involve some touching interaction between the band and Bosnian orphans or something like that, but then the lady biker dudes got involved.
“Yeah man,” she hollered, “play for us!!!!”
Well, most of the audience had sat down by that point and when we sat down, the bikers became enraged. “These aren’t real F***ING STYX FANS,” they howled. “REAL F***ING FANS DON’T SIT THE F*** DOWN!! GET UP! GET UP!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING???? STAND THE F*** UP!!!!”
I started laughing uncontrollably, with actual tears streaming down my face. To compound the situation, one of the bikers had his butt nearly on top of Tom’s head, presumably to shame him for sitting down. The look on Tom’s face is indescribable, a mix of bewilderment, rage and laughter. I knew he really wanted to turn around and slug the guy, but on the other hand, he knew it was not worth the trouble it would cause. Although it would have made a great blog!!!!
Well, the lead singer was winding down his story and he started talking about little boys fishing with their daddy’s and named some song he was going to sing. The lady biker behind me said gruffly “OH SHIT, HE’S GONNA MAKE ME CRY.” Which made me laugh all the harder!
They continued in this vein for the rest of the concert, the mullets were all around us, people were waving lighters in the air, and I felt at one with the universe. John managed to boil the noodles and the goddess ate three bowls of mac and cheese with no apparent ill effects and curled up in our bed and went to sleep. All in all, it was a pretty good night. Now I am off to get my hair styled in a mullet before I go take my first drum lesson!!