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World Container of Drunk Sabres Fans
I took today off work, because I could and also because last night I went to see The Tragically Hip! with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
strangecobwebs, textualchauvini, and riverlight.
We started off by demonstrating our BRILLIANT planning skills by totally failing to meet at the Metro station (Christine and I wound up at one entrance, River at the other, while Rachel was still down on the platform looking for us...) and then discovered that the bar where we (meaning I) had planned to grab some dinner beforehand was, you know, boarded up and closed. Mind you, we did not figure this out until we'd toured a three-block radius LOOKING for said bar... We then found a pub to eat at, and food and beer was had by all (albeit in tiny quantities for some...) They were playing ESPN on one of the screens, so I was able to see that the Rangers beat the Sabres in double OT in the afternoon game. This will be important in a minute.
The show was at the 9:30 Club, general admission. We showed up not long after the doors opened and headed as far forward as we could which, er, wound up being pretty much directly in front of one bank of amps. I had never felt music in my SHINS before, so that was a whole new experience.
There was an opening act, The Constantines, who repeated their name ("We're The Constantines, from Canada") several times. Nonetheless, the guy in the blue button-down shirt and the Red Sox baseball cap repeatedly asked everyone around him (including, I think,riverlight?) who these guys were. It did not bode well.
And then The Hip were on stage! And the Drunk Sabres fans crowded up behind us. In a very. Crowding. Kind of way. And also yelling GO SABRES GO between songs. And TOUCHING ME, GOD DAMMIT. Though less so afterstrangecobwebs put her arm around me and pointedly cuddled me.
(I've been following, mostly, the recent discussion of feminism vis a vis fanfic and fandom, which means that all of my responses to getting hassled by a drunk guy at a concert were, er. Really thinky, though in actual practice mostly confined to glaring over my shoulder and refusing to reply to any of the many things he yelled at me, none of which I could hear, due to STANDING IN FRONT OF THE AMP, DUDE. STOP TALKING. Ahem.
This may also have contributed to my andtextualchauvini's attempt to counter the GO SABRES GO chant with something we felt a bit more strongly about--I'm afraid I didn't catch Rachel's slogans (Go Deconstructionist Literary Criticism, maybe?) but I did borrow a line from missmollyetc and shout "Go Subverting the Male Narrative Go!" which Rachel and I followed up with a heartfelt WOOOOO! I think that was when someone in front of us turned around and said, "Good one!")
So... Yay The Hip! They did "Wheat Kings" which is my very favorite, and Gord was sweaty like a very sweaty person and spazzy like a very spazzy person, and I suspect that I will very much like the new stuff they played, once I hear it without the, you know, sandwiched-between-the-amp-and-a-drunk-Sabres-fan accompaniment.
strangecobwebs, textualchauvini, and riverlight. We started off by demonstrating our BRILLIANT planning skills by totally failing to meet at the Metro station (Christine and I wound up at one entrance, River at the other, while Rachel was still down on the platform looking for us...) and then discovered that the bar where we (meaning I) had planned to grab some dinner beforehand was, you know, boarded up and closed. Mind you, we did not figure this out until we'd toured a three-block radius LOOKING for said bar... We then found a pub to eat at, and food and beer was had by all (albeit in tiny quantities for some...) They were playing ESPN on one of the screens, so I was able to see that the Rangers beat the Sabres in double OT in the afternoon game. This will be important in a minute.
The show was at the 9:30 Club, general admission. We showed up not long after the doors opened and headed as far forward as we could which, er, wound up being pretty much directly in front of one bank of amps. I had never felt music in my SHINS before, so that was a whole new experience.
There was an opening act, The Constantines, who repeated their name ("We're The Constantines, from Canada") several times. Nonetheless, the guy in the blue button-down shirt and the Red Sox baseball cap repeatedly asked everyone around him (including, I think,
riverlight?) who these guys were. It did not bode well.And then The Hip were on stage! And the Drunk Sabres fans crowded up behind us. In a very. Crowding. Kind of way. And also yelling GO SABRES GO between songs. And TOUCHING ME, GOD DAMMIT. Though less so after
strangecobwebs put her arm around me and pointedly cuddled me. (I've been following, mostly, the recent discussion of feminism vis a vis fanfic and fandom, which means that all of my responses to getting hassled by a drunk guy at a concert were, er. Really thinky, though in actual practice mostly confined to glaring over my shoulder and refusing to reply to any of the many things he yelled at me, none of which I could hear, due to STANDING IN FRONT OF THE AMP, DUDE. STOP TALKING. Ahem.
This may also have contributed to my and
textualchauvini's attempt to counter the GO SABRES GO chant with something we felt a bit more strongly about--I'm afraid I didn't catch Rachel's slogans (Go Deconstructionist Literary Criticism, maybe?) but I did borrow a line from missmollyetc and shout "Go Subverting the Male Narrative Go!" which Rachel and I followed up with a heartfelt WOOOOO! I think that was when someone in front of us turned around and said, "Good one!")So... Yay The Hip! They did "Wheat Kings" which is my very favorite, and Gord was sweaty like a very sweaty person and spazzy like a very spazzy person, and I suspect that I will very much like the new stuff they played, once I hear it without the, you know, sandwiched-between-the-amp-and-a-drunk-Sabres-fan accompaniment.