First of all, let me express my supreme gratitude to those of you who don't shun my lil' bloggity blog just because I happen to write obsessively about the Dave Matthews Band. I have DMB friends who come here to read about shows, sometimes, and I like to supply.
In all of the excitement of my entire trip to Las Vegas, I kind of just half mentioned my favorite song of the weekend.I'd like to remedy that, but first! A story!
Way back when I was a baby 17 year old, some of my best friends and I went to Hawaii on our senior trip. We, a group of 5 teenaged girls, inevitably met up with a group of handsome, teenaged boys. One in particular caught my fancy, and his opening line was, "Hey, do you like The Dave Matthews Band?" (It was 2000). Well, no, I didn't like the Dave Matthews Band. Quite the opposite. They crowded up my MTV.... and Dave Matthews sounded like a weirdo. Plus I super loved N*Sync (ain't no shame in that).
Anyway, time went on, we all went home from Hawaii, and I kept in touch with that handsome boy. Over the years, we decided that we liked each other quite a bit, and he started trying to convey his feelings. We were both in relationships, seemed like it was all the time. So, one night, he told me he loved me (via IM) and wanted me to listen to......you know what's coming, DMB friends.....Say Goodbye. I then fell head over heels.
......for Dave Matthews.
So here it is, lovelies- the best version I have ever heard of the song that started it all. I was floored. When it was done, my friends and I all looked at each other and went, "Whoa." It was beautiful. I was enthralled. Could not look away. There are just times when I forget he is a human being, I think. It felt like I was seeing him play for the first time.... It makes me go, "Who on earth do I think I am, walking up to that guy whenever I see him?" He's just....good. Really good. I'm glad he is around, that's for sure. I wish I could write songs that do to people what this Say Goodbye did to me. I am at my happiest watching this man make music. It's just pure joy. I'm sad for people that never get this feeling from anything.
Sometimes, I think I should write to that boy from Hawaii to tell him he completely changed my life.
Sometimes I feel like I'm caught in a race to be the first to disapprove, be busy or have a problem with something. I didn't mean to be caught up. It seems like whoever has a problem first gets the satisfaction of seeing a flaw or glitch in the system that nobody else saw sooner.
I'm quitting that race. I will be happy I have good friends, as opposed to being upset by how far they live from me, and how little they come to my house. I will still go to them. I love them, that's why. I will like what I like, and love what I love, and if something about that bothers people I love, well, I'll still love them anyway, because they are not responsible for my happiness. I am.
I love things that are genuinely uncool by most standards. I love my dogs so much that I think of them while I'm at work. I still drink the same drink I drank when I was 21. I put a TON of effort into seeing my favorite band, and that may seem like nothing important to some people, but I will just wish and hope that they will, one day, feel how happy I felt during my best expeditions to go see the music I love. I get broken hearted when anyone subtly tries to let me know that what I do is not acceptable to others, or not the real world. You know what everyone who has made money from their creativity has in common? They understand that the World is something we make, not something we live in. They know that being kind gets you a long way, and that every single thing in existence started as some passionate person's brain child. So what if I love working in a dive bar? Come say hi. I pour a great Coke.
Sometimes I think I say too much. I give away too many of my feelings, and people use them to feel better about themselves. That's fine. I'll just do what I'm doing, and you can still love me, and I'll still love you.
Some days, I'm pretty sure nobody is reading this stuff, but I'll keep writing. I'm going to tell you about my second night in Las Vegas.
My friend flew in Saturday morning, and we went out to lunch with a few other friends. We were talking about tickets, and Wayne (my seat buddy), mentioned that we would be between where I had sat the night before (about 15th row) and the soundboard (halfway back the lower section, behind 15th row). As we all know, you can't sit close every time. He gave me my ticket and the day went on. We met some friends at Heart Bar in Planet Hollywood about an hour and a half before the show. Right before we were about to go into the venue, Wayne said, "Wait- let me see your ticket." So I gave it to him. Our friend Joe said, "Oh, you don't want this one. HERE is your ticket." I looked at it, and realized that we were sitting in the 3rd row. To say I was happy is an understatement. I almost cried. It was almost worth losing all of my money at the card tables. All of it.
Dave and Tim walked onstage, and sat down to play. So Damn Lucky started, the lights hit the audience, and I was a happy, happy girl for the next 3 hours. When The World Ends was awesome....Spoon made me tear up. The riff makes me feel feelings. I have a sweet little soft for Squirm, and I heard some Write A Song in there. Double bonus points for the night. I've never heard Say Goodbye sound as good as that night. It was evident that Dave was into it. He makes such wonderful sounds. Every single song was amazing. Bartender was gorgeous. I wish I was more eloquent right now, so you would REALLY know what I'm feeling about it all.
Anyway, here are some pictures of the show and a video.
My mother and I were planning on getting a Christmas tree last night, but then the rain came, so I talked her into meeting me at the bar when I got off of work and then grabbing a bite to eat downtown. After that, we went to an open mic night to see Ben Henderson play some tunes.
I think everything would have gone okay if one of the guys at the bar hadn't insisted on rubbing my mom's shoulders....or maybe if she were better at saying no to shoulder rubs from (perfectly nice) customers. My poor Margie. We were laughing as hard as we could without letting him know. He really is a sweetheart. One of my favorite customers, and a totally stand up guy.
The open mic didn't get off the ground as quickly as I had been hoping, so my mom took off to get home and feed the dogs before Ben went on. What a shame, because I love his music. Now I'm gonna get for reals.
I've only been to two open mics, and they've both been in San Jose, so I really have no authority on the ins and out of it all, but in my mind, you could feel the difference in the room when Ben got onstage. Not to disparage the other performers, because heaven knows I haven't gotten up and done that in front of people, but he is the real deal and everyone could tell. His music just hits the right spots. Here are some photos and maybe a video if my youtube account will hurry it up.
Sidenote: I had big time deja vu while sitting with my mom in that mezzanine (that felt like it would collapse at any moment). Does that mean I'm on the right path if I've seen something in a dream first? What a screwy thing the brain is. How does it DO that?
I flew to Las Vegas on Friday morning. The plan was to meet my friend, Wayne, and attend 2 shows put on by Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds.
(Disclaimer- this is going to be heavy in DMB lingo. Sorry)
(Also sorry that I said, "lingo.")
My friend's flight ended up getting delayed, so he wasn't able to make it to the Friday night's show. Since he was my seat buddy, it appeared that I was going to be going this show alone. Sometimes that's okay, sometimes I get bummed about it. It's usually okay. Friday night it was alright. I had just enough booze in me to think that I was having fun, then get quietly angry at myself for wondering if I could get better seats. "Vanessa! You get what you get and you don't throw a fit!" At no point did "bummed" get the best of my Friday night. Victory!
(It's alright to continue reading even though I mentioned booze.)
I met some people around me. The 2 guys behind me had flown out from New Jersey Friday morning, were seeing the show and flying back Saturday morning. Troopers. Then, there was a man who picked the PERFECT spot to stub himself up. When I got to my seat, he was in my friend's seat! I said, "Hi! You did a good job! This seat was empty, and now it's yours!" Isn't that neat? The one open seat in the first 20 rows, and he found it before we had even gotten there? Good for him. He was nice and mellow, and we chatted a bit. He reminded me of one of the customers at the bar. That gave me a soft spot for him. I almost wanted to pour him one too many beers and have him tell me a joke where he forgets the punchline and I suggest that maybe he should go get something to eat.
The show was good. It was great to hear Write a Song acoustic, it was lovely to hear Beach Ball. They both surprised me. I think my favorite surprise may have been Dodo. I keep singing it....it's stuck in my head for days. Grace is Gone was beautiful. I get the goose pimplies when I hear the crowd sing with "one more drink." I'm such a sucker for singalongs. I really try to keep my voice down when I sing along, until the rest of the peanut gallery pipes up. Then its fair game. Dave's voice was phenomenal both nights. He's such a dang good singer.
After the show, I met up with some friends. We grabbed some drinks, did some chatting, I ate some food as well as stuffed a granola bar in my purse for the road. Somehow, when I'm at my hungriest, the lounge sets me free (from hunger). As we were leaving, there was a group of people waiting. By a door. In a loading dock. Of course we thought waiting was a grand idea. What better to do in Vegas? There was a van ready to whisk someone away, and a few moments later, we found out that the someone was Tim Reynolds. I didn't bother him, nobody did.
A little while later, someone poked their head out of the door to scope the scene. Then the head of security came out and told us all that Dave would come talk to everyone. Exciting! Only in Vegas! People were keeping their cool. Good job, ladies and gentlemen. We were supposed to back up and go stand by a certain area so that he had room to actually get out of the door and so that nobody rushed him and frightened him away. Some of the younger girls, the really freshly 21 girls, didn't want to listen, so I heckled them from far away. Just kidding. But they really didn't want to listen and you could feel everyone that was playing by the rules getting uneasy. "You're gonna blow it for us! Get BACK here!" It all worked out, though. Don't worry.
So then, like a tall, funny angel, Dave Matthews walked among us. He came out, and people were playing it cool, but secretly freaking. Me, too. Some guys were being generous and telling me I could go in front of them (We had kind of started lining up. Poor Dave. Thank you, Dave.). I felt all pumped that I could tell them I'd rather them be first because, you know, I'VE met him before. "Oh, please- DO go ahead of me." What an butthead I am. Seriously. Why do I DO that junk?
There were a lot of people that had stories to tell him. He listened to each one. He signed casts, he took pictures, then 2nd pictures if the original didn't turn out well. Finally, he got to me. I went to shake his hand, but I had a sharpie in it. UGH. So I said something like, "Whoops. A pen. Will you sign my ticket?" Yep. Smooth as all that. Then, his security minded friend prompted me to tell Dave a really fun story about how I had met said security fellow. I SHOULD have said, "My best friend and I were in San Francisco the day before Golden Gate Park. We met some Irish fellows who claimed to have connections, said they could get us in. We went with them for drinks, met them for breakfast, then, after 100,000 people had already gotten into the show, realized they had lied! We needed help, and your friend gave us wristbands and lounge passes! " Instead, I said, "Um, someone tricked us and he gave us wristbands and lounge passes." It felt like this 19 second clip of Baby:
Anyway, I made a jack ass of myself, then that was it. He was gone pretty soon after. I DID give him a little note I had written on the back of my ticket that night. I gave it to him and said, "I wrote you a silly little note.." And he said "I'm sure it's very nice and thoughtful and full of generous things." That was nice of him to say....unless he was being sarcastic? I had gotten a feeling the day before to write a real letter, and actually tried to start one on the plane, but I was worried that the strangers next to me would try to read this letter to a guy I had only met twice, so I didn't write one. I think I got the main gist of what I would have said across on the back of that ticket, though. Hope he liked it. And licked it.
I had a great time. The other couple of times that I've gotten to touch Dave Matthews...I mean MEET Dave Matthews, it was in totally different situations. I'm sure I never really come off as even keeled, but at least I didn't really have very much pressure to act like I "belonged" on Friday night. We were all just fans freaking out. I'd never asked for an autograph before, I'd never seen so many people try and pull themselves together before he came out. It was pretty touching that this man who could have breezed past us took the time to give everyone their moment. Stars. They're just like us! Actually, even better on account of the talent and attractive faces.
If you really want to get down to my brass tacks (heeeyyyyy), I'm a little bummed about the way I handled it. I do this thing when I'm nervous where I try to let people off the hook...like, "Ok, I'm sorry I'm a dope, you're free from my weirdness." I watched a video of us taking a photo, and him looking at me afterward, and my body language comes off as totally dismissive. Ugh. I wish I could change that. I know Dave Matthews doesn't sit at home and worry about whether or not I blew him off, but...maybe someone does. I hope I get better at being a fellow human being someday.
Anyway, stay tuned for part two, due sometime tomorrow.
By the way, I'm changing my name to Venessa. Vanessa is SO 1982.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Remember when I posted about how December 8th was the day I was going to be responsible and smart? It was totally the 7th that day. What an idiot.
Remember today's date, folks. It is the day Vanessa English got responsible with money.
The main problem I have:
paying for food I could have brought from home
If I don't pack my lunch or make time to make some breakfast, I spend about $75/week on those things. Wouldn't it be nicer to put $75 per week away for a big shopping spree at the end of the month? OK, that is not responsible either. I'll put it away for my future children's college education or something. Spending that cash on stuff that ultimately turns into poop is not my idea of a prudent investment.
I should write a book on the things I'll be changing in my life to save money, and sell THAT.
I went for a stroll downtown this evening. Christmas in the Park is going on....
This was, for some reason, my favorite thing there:
Don't beat it before you ride THIS one:
That was fun.
I wish I had more pictures to post. Last night, I was getting ready for bed, and I put my hair up in a cute little messy bun thing. I walked by a mirror and thought, "Not bad, English!" So I figured I'd take a couple pictures with my dog. She likes stuff like that. You should have seen me laughing when my camera revealed the lies my eyes had told me. I looked so stupid. I wish I hadn't immediately deleted it in mortification. I almost sent it to Jess so she could laugh, too. That's love when you send your worst picture to someone. Ultimate trust.
Why am I so old and ugly lately? Can't a gal just take late night photos with her dog? My self esteem stings.
