Just one Screw

Last night I went to the Violent Femmes show at the Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle. Seattle seems to have this bizarre obsession with summer concert series. It all started with the whole “Summer Nights at the Pier” which was good but now it is just “Summer Nights” and while it is a little warmer at South Lake Union Park, it’s really not the same. Anyway, the success of summer concert series is completely apparent. They still have “Summer Nights” and now they have “Zoo Tunes” at Woodland Park, there is some series at the Chateau Ste. Michelle winery, there are concerts at Marymoor and Alki. . . It has just gotten out of hand. I think that one of the reasons theses things have become so popular is the ridiculous accessories one is allowed to bring to these events. Unlike a traditional concert, where you are forced to eat their food and drink their drinks while sitting in their chairs all under their roof, at these outdoor summer things you bring a blanket and/or lawn chairs and your own food and (non-alcoholic) drinks are permitted. Some people bring shade umbrellas or rain umbrellas since there is no protection from the weather. You can show up with side tables, camp stoves, stemware, laptops, sometimes even your dog. While all that is strange and a little intimidating to a person who generally views concerts as sans handbag events, the most disturbing items allowed (for free I might add) into the Violent Femmes show last night were the children.
I like Kids. I like them in the same way I like boats. Other people have them and I enjoy them immensely when they are around. I would like to have one or two when I get older and can afford them but for right now I am happy to use other people’s and hand them over to their owners whenever they need care, maintenance, or lodging. The problem with all these kids was this, I am totally socially inappropriate and so are many of the Violent Femmes’ songs. I sat there with my friend R*****, shivering in the dwindling sunlight, watching little people who should have been in bed, bounce and dance around while Gordon Gano asked “why can’t I get just one screw” repeatedly.

I have never paid so much money to be so uncomfortable.

In response to my discomfort I decided to talk to R*****. Wrong move. It started out innocently enough. She asked about my friend G** and I said she could not come out tonight because she was at the rehearsal dinner for a person I do not know. I then went on to gossip shamelessly about this person I do not know, explaining that her wedding was a “Knock and Rock.” This remark was met with death glares from the man in front of me. He leaned over his baby girl as if to shield her from my offensive personality. This maneuver of his effectively redirected the pre-toddler’s attention to the stage where they were performing a song about a man who kills his daughters and then hangs himself. I like how I am the bad guy here. But my tolerable behavior did not end there, no no it went right on discussing the drug habits, affairs, scandalous moments and general indiscretions of my friends and acquaintances all the while cussing like a sailor. I was trying to be PG, I swear but I have nothing to talk about that isn’t al least a little tabloid-esque. Also I kind of feel like it is not my responsibility. You brought your kid out in public and this is what you get. I’m public. I’m not even the worst of it. I don’t spit or smell. I don’t heckle or steal. I don’t even cuss as much as the people on the stage were. Still I did commit the ultimate sin. I did not bring any children with me and I did not pretend to be glad they were there. What can I say, I’m a bad person.