Monday, March 26, 2012

Sex, Drugs, and Rock n' Roll

I told a friend that the reason I haven't posted on this blog lately is because I'm happy and I typically only write in times of despair. Last night I had happy thoughts rushing through my head and decided that I was going to write these thoughts and break the habit of spewing misery for others to read. Well wouldn't you know it, today is not a good day. However, I am going to try and channel that eloquently composed post that I had mapped out in my head last night but didn't have a chance to write since it was so incredibly late and I was so incredibly tired.

Last night I went to see Dr. Dog in concert at the Electric Factory. I like the band. I am not a "super fan", meaning I can not rehearse every lyric of every song, nor did I purchase an overpriced hipster beanie from the show. I can say I do enjoy their music. Dr. Dog has two singers. One being the poppy vocalist who is tall and dorky with a nasally sound and catchy sing-a-long tunes; the other mildly attractive who's voice is like sex. Gritty when it needs to be and smooth in just the right moments.

Because I do not claim to be a hardcore Dr. Dog know-it-all, I have never taken the time to watch live performances or even really look up what the band members actually look like. From judging the voices, I know one is sex and the other is nasal. Seeing them on stage is a whole other experience. The energy of the show in and of itself is one thing but watching Toby Leaman (oh my God his name is really Toby? mmmmmmm) bass player/second lead singer boy essentially make love on stage...mmmmm. He puts the "sex" in rock n' roll.

Right then and there I determined two things:

1. The men I'm attracted to are those who have a butt load of passion. It doesn't matter what it is for. Hell it could be as an amazing cross stitcher for all I care, as long as they put every emotion and every last breath into that passion. As long as they make everyone around them have absolutely no doubt that they love what they are doing.

2. Rock stars shouldn't be allowed to wear wedding rings. Strippers don't wear wedding rings right? Since most women would rather ogle at a lead singer gyrating their hips and pressing their open mouth on a microphone than watch a buff man strip down to a thong, I whole heartedly feel that it is the duty of a guy in a band not to wear a wedding band. It crushes the fantasy. If we can't have you after the show, let us at least have our fantasy. Yes, even if our boyfriend is inches away.

Just to throw the drugs in there for title sake...there were more plumes of pot smoke up in that venue than a Dave Matthews concert. There were also the remains of nitrogen balloons littering the streets after the show followed a block up by the source where they were still selling them to the after party crowd. It was a sunday night but who am I to judge? I have a new obsession and it turns out his name is Toby.

http://youtu.be/XP-XFG00aiE