We did go! The eBay guy paid! I’d sat moping in the living room staring at the TV feeling sorry for myself, then decided to come upstairs to email the motel and cancel our reservation, and LO AND BEHOLD there was an email from Paypal saying we’d been paid!
Fucking halleluia! I skittered downstairs like my feet were on fire and told Mr. Brett, who got up and walked right out the door with me. He also got me to Chicago – from our house – in five hours, so we didn’t even miss the opening act, Ethel. We only saw their last piece, but still! FIVE HOURS! Door to door!
The show was a sort of accoustic-slash-unplugged thing, which I hadn’t expected. No band, no bass, no drums. Naked. The Cadillac Palace is gorgeous and our tickets were pretty good. Fifth row, far left side. Ethel was so interesting and fresh and intense that I’m going to have to feed some to my iPod. Even Brett dug them – they’re a string quartet that play like a band and they emote like nothing you’ve ever seen. (You can tell just by looking at them that none of them got laid in high school, but they’re monster players now.)
Joe Jackson, as it turns out, is totally gay. (Perhaps I’m the only person who didn’t know this, but I’ve never really been a fan of his. Although it does seem that if you’re an English singer/songwriter whose main instrument is piano, your odds of being queer are increased astronomically.) I enjoyed Joe’s set a lot – he does write some fantastic fucking changes – although I did find his vocals a bit rough for the first half of his set… I think he hadn’t warmed up, actually. The crowd was interesting because they were either there for Joe or Todd, meaning there were Todd-rockers snuggled in next to tony gay couples all over the seating plan. Joe’s adorably funny – his bits of patter between tunes were cute and got quite a few laughs, and who doesn’t die for a luv’ly Englishman-living-in-New-York accent? His piano chops are hot, and his purple swing-coat suit jacket was pretty hot too. Brett leaned over and whispered in my ear after Joe played Stepping Out and said, “Oh, I finally realized who this guy is.”
Todd was your basic rock god at the top of his game. He came out, picked up his axe, and blazed right through accoustic versions of a couple of old songs. His chops and voice were tight. The second tune he played was one of those two hits he had in the 70’s – either I Saw The Light or Hello It’s Me – and he’d rewritten the changes to these gorgeous, fucked up, suspended inversions… he actually hit some very crazy sus 11 chord (or some such loveliness) at one point and stopped the song to say, “I want you to listen to this chord. Just in case you think I’m some kind of misguided Dave Matthews or something… I’d like to see him play this chord,” and then he launched back into the song. (He also told us shortly thereafter that he was messing with his nose not because the snowman had come but because he’d neglected to trim his nosehairs, AND he played Bang On The Drum All Day on the fucking ukelele. I love that man.)
After some guitar stuff, he sat at the grand piano and did a piano set, which included The Viking Song (of all things) and the other 70’s hit, the one he hadn’t played earlier. (Must have been Hello It’s Me. I think I Saw The Light was the guitar tune.) I knew every song Todd did save one, and had a great time seeing him again. It was totally a fan’s performance.
It wasn’t a very good Intro To Todd show for Brett, though, because not all the songs necessarily show to their best advantage when the rest of the band is missing, but I dug it so much I can hardly stand myself, and that was the point after all.
After Todd’s set, Joe and Ethel came back out and they all did three more tunes as an ensemble: Pretending To Care (off of Todd’s A Capella album), and While My Guitar Gently Weeps (wherein Todd’s little amp shit the bed and was taken off stage by a roadie WHO DID NOT LOOK AT ALL LIKE TODD). The encore was Black Maria.
I loved the show and was SO HAPPY to have been able to make it! By 11:30 we were on our way to our motel.
We checked in and left immediately, and walked about five blocks until we caught a cab. The cab dropped us at Fat Joe’s and we both got tattoos. I did not get Karajishi, alas, because they quoted me $415 for the whole thing and I didn’t want to get a partial, but I did get a new low back tattoo (beneath the one I already had) that I’m quite pleased with, and Brett got a pin-up girl on his inner right arm. She’s adorable – a cartoony naked 40’s chick in a Navy peacoat. We’re both pretty pleased.
After we got inked, we left the tattoo parlor around two in the morning and caught a cab to Kingston Mines, where we stayed until 4:30. We watched the last part of a set in the big room, then moved to the side room for the final act of the night. Brett kept trying to get me to go ask if I could sit in (“I’ve been waiting for something like this for eight years, Mushlette.” he said. “Go up there and kick ass!”) since they were letting people play with them, but I lamed out – I realized by the end of the night that I should have gone up and sat in, but it’s weird in a venue you don’t know in a town that’s not your town with musicians you’ve never even seen before to just walk up and say, “Can I sit in? I know I’m a white girl you’ve never seen before and have no reason to trust, but just give me a twelve-bar blues in G…”
Ah well, live and learn. Next time we’re there and they’re letting people sit in, I’ll just walk right up there and grin. THAT would be fun: to kick ass at a well-known Chicago blues club and then just leave and go back to Iowa. Heh.
We got back to our motel room around five in the morning, showed each other our new tattoos and did the necessary tattoo care regime (wash with mild soap and water, pat dry, apply ointment, stare at them in the mirror, compliment each other’s new ink, etc.) and then we went to bed and had… um… we didn’t get to sleep until well past six.
AND THEN WE GOT UP AT NINE.
We checked out, drove down town, got lattes at a Starbucks and spent a lovely 45 minutes reading the paper, and then wandered around aimlessly killing time until Gino’s opened at noon. We ordered an extra-large pie (tomato, garlic, eggplant, spinach, and ricotta) , ate one slice each, and had the other ten pounds boxed to bring home.
Then we drove home. It was a long, long, looong drive after drinking until 4:30 and getting only three hours of sleep, but we’re home and the dogs were glad to see us. I had so much fun, Brett had so much fun, we’re both really happy with our new tattoos, and we managed to blow enough cash that we don’t have to suffer any nagging feelings of flushness. (Snort!) I’m going to try to wait until dark before I crash, but I doubt I’ll make it. Especially since I just ate another slice of Gino’s pie and am feeling rather food coma-ish.
I had so much fun! I had so much fun! I had so much fun! Not only did I get to see Todd, but I got ink, and it basically counts as an anniversary trip since we were married in May. YAY!
…zzzzzZzzZzzzzzzzzZzzzzzzzz…
