Spoon Fed and Cornbread

It’s a little past seven on a Sunday night, and I am uncharacteristically not at home doing laundry and preparing myself for the work week. It is ridiculously hot out for an April night. I do believe the weatherman said it was going to hit around 94, which for me is like walking on the sun, though the sporadic westerly breeze is pleasant. Where might I be? Well, I’m in downtown Lancaster, of course, waiting in line with my gf to get into the Chameleon Club to see a band called Spoon. A band which I had recently enjoyed through Pandora and has been licensed out quite a bit through commercials, movies and other outlets.

As I walked in, I went through the common pleasantries that any venue has these days in the wake of 9-11 and I guess maybe the era of knife fights and handguns. But the security is cordial enough and unfortunately to my dismay no pat down. We make our way up the winding staircase and into the over 21 area, which I seemed to have no choice in, given the flow of traffic. At this point we are looking for some friends, who we luckily find almost instantaneously, no back and forth on cell phones trying to get exact coordinates;

- Where are you!?!
- I’m next to some girl with an ironic t-shirt on
- Which one!?!
- The one that says ‘I’m a virgin but this is an old t-shirt’
- I see you… man that shirt is old, it’s barely covering her muffin top and stretch marks!

We hunker down for an enjoyable evening of music… an hour later still waiting in a sauna of sweaty people, oh look the opening band’s about to play! High fives all around, not literally, more telepathically, cause telepathy is awesomeness! I always feel bad for the opening act, they tend to lack the talent of the headliner and the crowd tends to be unfairly critical and usually rightfully uninterested. On this occasion, the band (the white rabbits, I think named after the holiday celebrating jesus’ crucifixion), where pretty frikin good! I enjoyed them more than Spoon, which I was lukewarm to before the show, as well as after.

As the music washed over the crowd something amazing happened, the whole room came to life. One by one the eclectic collection of college kids and over forties started to bounce and sway and even one gentleman seemed to be having some sort of religious experience, bouncing and clapping. I mean it was either that or he was having a light sensitivity seizure.

It was glorious, but there was one thing that stuck out like a sore thumb… These people had no rhythm! None what so ever! It was crazy how out of sync they were. For the rest of the night I was just taking in the spectacle that surrounded me, and the music just became this amazing soundtrack. I looked to my left, and up to the balcony, it was an epidemic of left footedness! Behind me I turned and found a woman who was at least in her seventies girating in such a way that I felt violated that she had been only inches away from me this whole time. It was the Best/Worst/Best experience at a show I have ever had.

So that was my Sunday night, and after an hour plus drive home I went to sleep content and exhausted.