Last Friday Night

Some people are into Friday night lights.  I'm in a Friday night rut.  I'm totally okay with it though.  Because I'm old, have 4 kids and can't stay up past 10pm on any given night.  So by the time the weekend comes, I'm completely exhausted and don't want to do anything.  And there's no where else I want to be more than on the couch with a belly full of pizza with a glass of red wine in my pajamas watching a movie with the family.  Notice I said family movie and not family game night, which is the polar opposite of relaxing.  So why in the world would I go to a bar at 9pm on a Friday?  

Mama Beast, my roller derby wife.  I met my Mama on recruit day, both of us awkward introverts, we bonded over our pathetic orange wheeled rental skates.  The fact that we got assigned to  opposing teams didn't matter.   When I moved to Morocco for a couple years she stayed true to me.  Ok, upon my  return she copped to having a mistress.  But, I'm ok with that, as long as they weren't making any long term plans together or anything.   Sure, go have your fun.  In the words of Nina Simone...

The other woman finds time to manicure her nailsThe other woman is perfect where her rival failsAnd she's never seen with pin curls in her hair

The other woman enchants her clothes with French perfumeThe other woman keeps fresh cut flowers in each roomThere are never toys that's scattered everywhere

And when her man comes to callHe'll find her waiting like a lonesome queen'Cause when she's by his side it's such a change from old routine

But the other woman will always cry herself to sleepThe other woman will never have his love to keepAnd as the years go by the other woman will spend her life alone 

But now she's the one moving away.  And it's her birthday weekend.  So, that's why I'm out on a Friday night.  To savor the time we have left living in the same city watching a band I've never heard of.  I would say it's because I'm too old, but they're actually older than me.  It's because I'm totally unhip.  It's a terminal condition. I might set up a foundation The Tragically Unhip to accept donations for this charitable cause.  Wait.  That name's not taken is it?  

Built to Spill

Bars are all the same.  They're so loud it's impossible to have a conversation and not miss half of it.  The toilet never flushes or worse, it overflows.  And there's a pathetic guy in the crowd with absolutely no rhythm air drumming alone.  Either that or air guitar.  Then there's the gross pda couple molesting each other.  Who you know is gonna go home and fight.  Watching the crowd was so intriguing I almost missed the most fascinating person there.  Him.

Wait does he look like...?

From afar he had an uncanny resemblance to Charles Manson.  When we waded through the crowd to get closer, it was clear he actually looked far more like Paul Rudd impersonating Charles Manson. And the best part?  Not only does he play guitar and tambourine, he also rocks a cowbell!  (Unfortunately my cowbell photo is a total blur.)

See,  he does doesn't he?

So after 2 hours of feeling young and hip in this very old, rhythmically challenged crowd with one whole PBR under my belt.  It was time to go home.  And yeah, I stayed out past 11pm.  This only happens once every 5 years.  Which you know means I was on the couch in my pajamas by 5 pm the next night.  That's a lie.  I actually made it to 7pm.

Mama, me and a PBR

No matter how far my Mama moves away, I'm stayin' with her.  Cause I'm in this for life!