So, I’m working on a Sunday.
Didn’t think I was ever going to have to do this, but the forces of fate got me on Friday between a rock concert and a hard place and I chose the rock concert (Guster).
I was grousing about working on Sunday and how I felt maligned by circumstance, but really it hasn’t been that bad. I’ve been pretty productive, and everything is nice and quiet so I can cartwheel to the build machine and no one gives me odd looks.
Thing is, when Kuwie started work and then started workaholism, he gave me the same lines I’m giving you: it’s peaceful on Sunday, no one is breathing down your neck, etc. I told him, nay, I vowed that I would never let crap come between me and Sunday morning brunchables. How I have fallen. Mightily.
Anyway, the worst thing about it is having to come back tomorrow. Why can’t I skip out? I put in my time! Etc etc. I guess that’s what you have to do when you’re nice and salaried instead of hourly.
On a final note on this topic, daylight savings time really rocks the house in the fall. I got up to go in to work and realized I had an extra hour to futz around. And that futz around time was key to me being a non psychotic individual.
So, back to the Guster concert… when did Guster become a chick band??? So many teenyboppers there, taking Daddy’s Explorer down to the city. Parking for them was $20, I managed to squeak into a street spot (say it with me, “Oh yeah!”) El and I weren’t really in a rocking mood, but neither were most of the people there. In fact, many were sitting throughout the opening act and even when they stood for Guster, there was just a lot of swaying.
There was one exception: a kid and his dad, out for the night. The dad looked like a younger Woz, bearded. The kid was about 12 with a nerdy haircut. They were dressed in plain green Guster T shirts. The dad was rocking out even to the between act filler music, slapping the walls, groovin’. The kid sang along to every song. At one point, Adam Gardner told the audience to raise their cellphones high, since the age of raising the lighter had passed and the kid dutifully held his dad’s Nokia above his head, pressing a button every 10 seconds to keep the light from going off. Long after everyone else had put their phone down, the kid propped his arm on his head to keep from letting his favorite band down.