2005-11-28 - 10:29 p.m.

the one with all the short stories that got long

So I go a month without posting and no one wonders if I'M dead. Am I so predictable that you can't imagine me in a wood chipper - or at least possibly abducted by a rogue guitar tech? Sigh...

Lots of stuff in the past month... I saw Foreigner twice, with their new singer, Kelly Hansen. I know one of my readers is a big fan of Lou Gramm, and I'm not dissing Lou - hopefully this is not one of those cases where saying the new guy is good equals an automatic slam of the previous guy. But Kelly is good. When I saw him with Foreigner the first time, I wasn't thinking about "does he sound like Lou" or any of that... I still couldn't really tell you. I'm not interested in making that comparison. But, he was really impressive and totally nailed the songs. Also did a really good job on the Led Zep covers they did (Jason Bonham is their drummer). Kelly has a bit too much of a "trolling for groupies" stage persona for my taste, but that's probably because I'm old and not in the "groupie wannabe" category. But it's not offensive or anything. They put on a great rock show, both times.

Although, message to Mick Jones if I may: Hello, Mick. I would say I'm a Foreigner fan. I knew every word (sometimes surprising myself, but I did) to every song you guys played. I'm even enough of a fan that I watched the "Behind The Music." But, I'm not the die-hard type who knows the rumors and stories behind the BTM, and knows band politics and who did what to whom and why this one's fans think that one's the one who did this one wrong and vice versa. I love the music - I don't care about the politics. Much like the majority of people who are going to come to your shows, I'd think. So therefore, Mick - please keep the snarky self-righteous thinly veiled (extremely thinly) insults to yourself... it was the one negative moment in your show and really made you look petty. It may make the diehards laugh with you, but it makes the rest of us think, gee, what a jerk, shut up and play. So please can it. Thank you.

I hope you all know I'm not making fun the die-hard fans here, one bit... although it's a different band, takes one to know one.

Lots of whirlwind go-one-day-come-back-the-next trips in the past month... although my boss has been fantastic, I'm still trying to maximize my shows and minimize my time off from work. Makes for interesting travel adventures though.

There was the one where I got pushed off the wrong exit of the Mass Pike by traffic, ended up lost in the rain in Back Bay at 5:15am, trying to make it to Logan for a 6:30 flight... really didn't think I was going to make that one. Unexpectedly rescued by Big Dig detour signs... who knew they'd be useful one day?

There was the one where I had a direct, but not non-stop, flight... made a stop in Detroit and was told that we'd have the same aircraft for the 2nd leg of the trip, so I was welcome to leave my carry-on onboard while I left the plane for a moment... why oh why did I ever believe the "it's safe to leave your luggage with us" line? Even though they ANNOUNCED that we could leave our stuff and even though I specifically ASKED one of the flight attendants as I was leaving, just to be sure? It's not the flight attendants' fault. They were giving me the information the airline gave them. But I trusted the airline for up to date information? What am I, new? Left the plane, went and bought water or something, came back to the same gate... my flight is not the one listed as departing next from that gate. Um, excuse me, is this the gate for the continuation of flight whatever? Very nice gate agent - No, honey, didn't they tell you to go to gate so and so? No, they told me THIS gate. Do you have something still on that plane? Yes, blue wheelie bag, over row 28. Very nice lady went and brought it to me - along with a couple other bags and an armload of other stuff collected from under and on seats, that other people would be coming back for, hopefully soon.

Airlines. Don't get me started. When you have a flight from point A to point B, with a stop in between at point A And A Half, at which point you have to get off one plane and get on another - that's called a CONNECTION. The fact that both legs use the same flight number does not make it a direct flight. I know, it does to the airlines... but it doesn't to any RATIONAL HUMAN.

Then there was the one where I got on board, sat down in my seat at 2A, took out my husband's mp3 player which he lets me use when I travel, stuck it in the seat pocket in front of me, and promptly fell asleep. Sitting back in the airport waiting to get on my connecting flight after that, suddenly - OH NO. Totally forgot to take it back out. I was much more upset because it wasn't mine, even though I knew my husband would just say oh well - it was an accident. Tried going back to the gate but there was no one there, so I figured I'd try when I got home to say, I was on this flight, in this seat - anyone find it? But, yeah sure, right? So, end of the next flight, I'm in 3F and I just happened to look across to 2A, and the guy sitting there reaches into the seat pocket and pulls out... you guessed it. Hands my husband's mp3 player to the flight attendant and says, "I found this in the seat pocket." I immediately wave her over and ask where this plane just came in from (even though I know where it must ahve come from) because - that's mine! When we land she gives the player and my paperwork to the ground crew, who checks (or pretends to) that it is in fact the same plane I was on earlier, and that I was in fact in 2A on that flight, so they give the thing back. WHEW. I told the story to my husband when I got back, turned over the player and told him I appreciated the loan but I'd never travel with it again - too much stress. I'd rather do without until I get my own, and then if I lose that it's my own idiocy and no one harmed but me. So he's getting me one for Christmas. Good deal.

Then there was the one where my friend and I drove after work and arrived at our hotel around midnight so we'd be in town early for a show the next day. Parked in the parking garage of the hotel, took our suitcases and a few other things, left some things in the car we wouldn't need until the next day - so we wouldn't be carrying a ton of stuff. Next morning, we go to the car to get some stuff, including my phone which I'd forgotten and left charging, and also so my friend can get a soda. She's a diet soda addict, and had brought a 12-pack carton for the trip. She had drunk a couple on the way, brought a few into the hotel, and left the rest in the trunk of the car. Sooo we walk up to the car, open the trunk... no soda? Huh? Search the trunk again. Search the back seat just in case. Then... wait... my friend says, where's my tote bag? It was in the back seat. Uh oh. Not so much there any more. Now we start to take inventory. Chairs and blankets in the trunk? Check. Expensive pillow in the back seat? Check. My phone? Yep, it's there. My little zipper case with 20 CDs, which was left inside the armrest? Um... nope. Gone.

We go to the parking lot attendant, who only seems inclined to repeat the phrase "park at your own risk." It's not for lack of speaking English. Just for lack of, you know, brain cells or something. We ask if there's a trash barrel anywhere that someone may have thrown stuff into as they left... "huh?" A TRASH CAN? ANYWHERE? "Uh..." shrug. Thanks. We go to the garage's office, where someone behind a manager's desk is on the phone. As we walk in, we see my friend's tote bag sitting on the floor next to his desk. Finally our presence distracts him enough to say "hold on" to the phone he's holding and say "yeah?" to us. The whole time we were there, he never took the phone away from his ear. You know, either tell us to please wait until you're done or put your call on hold... at least pretend we're worth a smidge of attention. We explain that some things were taken out of our car, and that the bag sitting there is one of those items. Manager type guy says, that was found this morning by our janitor, and oh yeah, park at your own risk. Then goes totally back to his phone call and leaves us standing there. So after a minute I said, um... can we have the bag? He pushes the phone aside and says, "I believe you," then goes back to the phone call. So we calculate that his statement means we can take the bag and go, and that doing so isn't going to cause him to leap panther-like from behind his desk to demand we show ID or sign forms or anything, and we take the bag and leave.

My friend looks through her bag, and things have been pawed through, but the only thing missing is HER case of CDs. The majority of our CDs were burned ones, and there were no jewel cases or booklets or artwork... just the CDs. So, resale value? I'm thinking the cases are worth more, at about $6.99 each. The other weird (but great) thing? No damage to the car whatsoever. And I am SURE that I pushed the "lock" button on the remote as we were leaving the car and we are both SURE we heard the "honk" that means all the doors locked. So either maybe one of the doors wasn't closed properly and couldn't lock... or someone bothered to break into the car cleanly, with one of those lock opener things, in order to steal... two cases of burned CDs and 8 diet sodas??? At this point if I could talk to whoever did it, I'd say, KEEP the stuff... just EXPLAIN this to me. The illogic is driving me nuts.

Then there was the one where I'm sitting in O'Hare having lunch, eavesdropping on other people because it was too much trouble to get my book out to keep myself entertained. The server describes the appetizers for the lady at the table next to me. Lady: Does this one have meat in it? Server: Yes. Lady: How about this one? Server: Yes. Lady: Because I'm a vegetarian, and I don't eat meat. At all. Haven't eaten meat in four years. What soup do you have? Server: Something1, Something2 and Chicken Noodle (she knew, but I don't remember). Lady: Does Something1 have meat in it? Server: Yes. Lady: Okay, I'll have Chicken Noodle. Server: hesitates... quietly writes down order.

Okay, so she could have meant RED meat. But she kept saying Any meat At All. And it's a funnier story if she's just a moron.

And then there's the shows, the shows, the shows... and to quote my German friend, RSP is an angel. Although she calls him by name and has no idea I ever call him RSP. But... he is indeed an angel.

my mood -

the mood of the whole world wide bleepin' web -