When I was in high school I was in every single chorus class I could take, and was in every audition choir we had. Eventually there were no more chorus classes to take and I had to take a music theory class. One of the assignments was to write a song. It didn’t have to have lyrics, but it did have to be at least eight … eight … whatever those things are called. You know. If you’re doing a song in 4/4 timing you had to have eight of the 4/4. Bars? Is that what they are? Measures? I didn’t do very well in that class, obviously. Anyway, my song was atrocious; I think I spread my index and middle fingers on both hands as far apart as I could, and then plunked them sporadically across the keyboard in whatever timing felt right at the time. Seriously, it was gross.
Last night my darling loverman took me to see Morrissey for an early birthday present. I love Morrissey, I always have and I always will despite his HORRIBLE LACK OF TASTE when it comes to opening bands. I leave you on your own to google this because I will eat rock garden dirt before I link to that mess. Kristeen Young. Her piano playing was brazenly RIPPED OFF from my music theory song writing assignment! I’m not sure how she got ol’ Kent Parry, head of Carmel High School’s music department, to hand over my song, but damned if that’s not what she was playing last night. I say playing, I mean smashing out from the keyboard. Whilst doing the pee pee dance, or, as we call it, El Baile de Pee Pee. Her voice was GREAT if only she’d stopped doing that goat impersonation followed by some sort of operatic wailing. It was so bad. She introduced one song with this drivel: “I’m backwards, I’m socially inept, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you don’t need parents, you don’t need a husband, you don’t need a baby (and then she went on, but I was too distracted by my own thoughts to pay more attention)!” Seriously, the crowd was made up of mostly people in their 30s and up, and the chick noticed the lack of enthusiasm at her weird rant. Oh well. Finally she was done and left the stage.
Morrissey rocked, it was an absolutely amazing show. I’ve wanted to see him since I was 11, and waiting 22 years didn’t dampen my enthusiasm one bit. His band was SO energetic and spectacular, I loved every moment of their playing. I love you, Morrissey. Please, though, please, next time you come back to Phoenix, do these two simple things: 1) Don’t play in a venue that’s smack dab in the heart of a retirement village. The elderly theater volunteers made the whole thing so odd, even though they were very sweet. 2) Please get a better opening act. Even if it’s Nolan and his accordion, or my neighbor and his portable cement mixer, get a better opening act. Oh, and there’s no need for a hotel! You can stay with me!
All right. I am currently working on a Mason Dixon Heartbreakingly Cute Baby Kimono for my future niece-in-law. Future because I’m not married to her uncle-to-be yet, and she’s not been born yet. But when she is she will have a darling kimono knitted for her from me, her favorite Auntie ever. It’s in a forest-green shade of Cotton Fleece. I’ll take pictures when it’s done.
I’m sorry to have gone on and on about that wretched music. It really was terrible. I’m sure you could find her myspace page and have yourself a listen if you feel like it.
