hell is for outdoor concerts

What is it with outdoor concerts and rain?

We’ve had a drought for two months in Georgia and the MINUTE we have Melissa Etheridge tickets is rains. In fact, the last three times I’ve been to Chastain Amphitheatre to see a show it’s rained.

Last Saturday was the concert. We had planned to get there early and to tailgate with our new friends from Dawsonville. A friend up the street called and asked if her and her gf could carpool so it was a plan. We split the $20 parking so it wasn’t too painful. We were one of five other cars pulling into the lot, parked, got out the chairs and the cooler and started watching people come in. Our friends waved to us across the parking lot and dragged chairs and wine over to visit. We no more got twenty minutes into our tailgating when –

BOOM!

We barely had enough time to fold up the chairs, throw them in the trunk and dive into the car. We thought, Oh, it will stop in 20 minutes. Nope. We sat there for an hour and ½. The gates weren’t even open no one was playing in the deluge with thunder and lightning. Our friend, Emil was trapped in her car up the hill. Dawsonville friends were going through 3 bottles of wine. Charlie and I were drinking beer but all of our bladders were on the verge of exploding. We saw some girl get out of the car behind us and open both front and back doors and go between them. I was tempted believe me but that seemed way too personal with Angela and Sharon in the backseat. (This is really the first time we’ve gone somewhere with them.) I texted the Dawsonville peeps and said we were staying until 8:30 and if no music and it’s still pouring we’re out of there. They said they were leaving at 8:15. As if knowing we were all going to leave they opened the gates. Then, the rain let up. We all got out – like a mass exodus. There were soggy lesbians everywhere. Our Dawsonville friends decided they were too drunk to leave to stay.

Angela and Sharon took off for the gate and I hopped a squat between the car doors and peed all over my shorts and flipflops. We lugged the cooler down the steps to a line that was forming to get in. Charlie and a cop got into it because she wanted to wait on the side until I got up to the front of the line before hopping in – she didn’t want to have to lug the cooler the whole time we were in line which made sense. The cop was pointing over to the side telling her she had to stand right.there. What a b*tch.

We finally got up to the guy checking tickets and when I pulled out my Groupon tickets he barely looked at them and said we had to get behind that woman to have them scanned. He was kind of a b*tch, too. So, we followed the woman and came to an usher who we showed the tickets to. She looked at them and then the previous guy yelled over our shoulders, [Name of usher] I NEED YOU BACK HERE RIGHT NOOOOOW.

Usher, I’M HELPING THESE LADIES FIND THEIR SEAAAAAAAAATS! Even louder. I thought a fight was going to break out.

We went in to find our seats only to find this grandma older couple in our seats with a tray and food set up. They looked at us to move and we stopped them and said we’d sit somewhere else and if someone kicked us out we’d come back. So, we pushed up under the terrace a few rows up and sat down. We tried to eat but every time we put our deli containers with salad and chicken on the cooler they got dumped off on the ground. By this time I was realllllllly over it. I probably could have left right then if Melissa Etheridge hadn’t started playing. I wanted to see her but I was lukewarm about Pat Benatar. We decided to just drink beer at that point and f*ck the food.

After some time, Angela and Sharon found us and said, It’s terrible out there- it’s raining.

I hadn’t noticed being under the terrace. So, we told them to sit with us. The place was half empty anyway and I was glad we’d gotten a Groupon for this show as I would have HATED to have spent the $$ on tickets our friends had.

Melissa finished then Pat came out and the first two songs were great – I think they were “Love is a Battlefield” and “We Belong”. Great. Then, I was ready to go. She was playing with Neil Giraldo (who, I have no idea who he is) and he started to TALK before every song they played. I was like, Shut up and play, old man.

I was getting restless and wanted food. I was starting to ask everyone if they were ready to go. Then, on stage they started talking again and then ripped into, “Hell is for Children”. Sounding like: HELLSIS FOR CHIL-REN!!!!

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It kind of blasted us out of our seats and hard to take after several beers and I imagine the rest of the crowd – three bottles of wine and towards the end of the evening. That seemed to do it for everyone they were like, Lets go.

For that, I am happy they played that song then.

The next concert is not until the fall and inside the Tabernacle, which, I’m thankful for that.

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lesbian GO

Happy Friday, everyone! It is the dog days of summer here. We try to stay cool as we push through to September and football season.

Last Sunday we hosted a soccer championship party. Well, we called it a party because for once there were more than three people including Charlie and myself [shocking, I know]. We made a plan with our friend, B.Ferris to come over that afternoon to watch the game and grill out after. That morning, we had breakfast with our friend, Emil and she agreed to come over later if she didn’t hear from two of the women she’s been in contact with on HER. I guess this is the lesbian version of Adam4Adam? [is there an Eve4Eve app?]

Ok, you know I just can’t let this opportunity go by without reflecting on this. I’ll continue with the soccer in a bit –

So, with all the app madness these days, like the Pokemon GO and people falling off cliffs to play I wonder if there could be a lesbian dating app calling LessyGO! Like, a single person like Emil could check in to an area, say a frequented place that has restaurants, bars, stores, etc. and then GO find a partner, hookup, friend to hold hands with – whatever. I was thinking this when I saw this video this morning:

Like, these apps could make you GO find whatever it you want- like me, I’d want Miller Lite. Miller Lite GO because the [soccer, football, hockey] game is about to begin! People like BBQ then there’s BBQ-GO! Get that rib, come on!

BBQGOOOOOOOOOO!

The possibilities are endless, y’all.

So, back to the soccer party. Our friend, Nana who has recently earned the new motorcycle group/blog/nickname of Stiletto stopped by on her way to the airport. Stiletto is always a lively addition to any gathering. So, Emil was talking about the hookups women she’s met on HER. Of course B.Ferris had to break in and relate to Stiletto the time when I told her not to mention all of the deceased cat’s she’s had in the past on a first date. It always goes like this:

Don’t talk about all your old cats dying on a first date.

I wasn’t on a date.

Yeah, because you mentioned all your cats dying.

It’s sort of like a who’s on first thing with us. Now I’m thinking of an app Finding-someone-who-has-as-many-cats-as-I-GO, app. Maybe then it would be appropriate to commiserate over all the cats who have died in the past and give them respectful remembrance. Instead of me saying, DON’T TALK ABOUT DEAD CATS!

Stiletto stuck up for me on that one but she wasn’t around for the Canada debate between B.Ferris and I that went something like this:

If Trump wins I’m moving to Canada.

What makes you think Canada wants you?

Well, I can just move there.

No you can’t. You have to become a citizen. What makes you think they’ll accept you.

My parents live near there in New York.

So what? That doesn’t mean anything. I get so sick of people saying that they’re going to move to Canada. I mean, Canada doesn’t want your @ss. Just because Americans can’t make their political system in the US work we’re going to flee to Canada? What a cop out.

Oh, you just like to debate with me every time we drink.

Not every time we drink, most times.

Anyway, despite the Canada debate much fun was had and Portugal won so I was happy until I dragged my hungover butt in to work the next Monday and I posted this CANADA GO article for B.Ferris on my FB

 

 

 

working for the week (summer) end

July has just started and we’re already craving some rain and lower temps. It’s been a scorching hot summer so far and more to come until the last day (Sept 23rd, I think). The past two weeks, Charlie and I have been typically putting in 6 day weeks with the landscape business.

The weekend before last, Charlie went down to see the boys and I stayed home with the dogs. Friday night I had taken some beers down the street to these neighbor friends that I’ve known for years – since I first moved to the street in ‘97. One of them had been diagnosed by her GP that her breast cancer had come back and metastasized into the bone in her clavicle and was awaiting more bad news from the cat scan and the consult with the oncologist. I had texted her “I have cold beer” and she replied “come down”. I ended up staying there talking to her and her partner for a couple of hours then I ran to get a pizza and ran into Opie who had to tell me about breaking up with her boyfriend so I didn’t get home until late. Saturday, I went to do that landscape job for that lady I felt bad for. I went over there and she had taped an envelope to the door with a note to also clean up all the garbage that was in the poison ivy.

It was kind of a disgusting job, to be honest. I got it done and hauled out some of her trash but not all – my measly little $50 quote didn’t include hauling out 10 plastic buffet lids to the recycling bin. (I hauled out half of that, though, and I don’t even want to know why she had all those there – is there some way to cook meth with a buffet lid? I don’t know….) Below is some before and after shots:

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Then, I went home and took a shower and scrubbed every square inch of my body and melted into the couch to watch soccer. After a while I got a text from Nana wanting to know if we were still on for dinner and going to Shutter and Rooster’s show. I really considered just staying home but I knew this was probably going to be the only opportunity I saw them for the next month or so. I replied that I’d meet them down there for the show.

The show was in this really bad upcoming neighborhood down by the new football stadium. I wound through downtown and almost passed it before turning down a side street beside a bar that had a fenced in area in the back with junk that looked like one guy’s treasures. I looked around and didn’t see any familiar cars and thought, I can’t believe I’m the first one here. (Well, yes I can because I have to be early for everything but that was just it – I wasn’t early – everyone else was just really late.) I almost left until I walked in and ran into Link and Nana. It was a small one-room bar that you could barely move in and they were shoved up along the wall sitting on stools against a ledge that was about a foot wide trying to eat deli sandwiches. (this place had “bar and deli” in the name but this was no place you’d ever think of ordering some boarshead roastbeef…..)

They’re playing here?

Yes, Nana nodded, I had called earlier asking if we needed to make a table reservation and they laughed at me.

Where are they playing?

Apparently, downstairs. She pointed to what looked like a broom closet that led to stairs.

So, they have to lug all their equipment to the basement?

Yes.

Long story short, when Shutter and Rooster pulled up 30 minutes later Link and I helped them haul their stuff through the bar ‘scuse me, sorry, coming through……scuse me, yes coming through again……..move it muther-f*cker….. and down some of the ricketiest stairs I’ve ever saw.

They finally got set up downstairs where it was all exposed brick walls and sort of cool like a dungeon until they warmed up and then it was like this:

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CAN YOU TURN THE AMP DOWN A LITTLE BIT???

My ears were ringing then. I hadn’t had enough whiskey, wait, I was on my second drink and couldn’t feel any remote kind of a buzz and realized that they must have watered down their jack. Note to self the next time I went to see them there I was bringing a flask and showing up late, very late. As of yet, their bass player who doesn’t believe in anything electronic that tells you how to get somewhere was weaving his way around downtown driving the wrong way on one-way streets still trying to find the bar. Shutter finally had to initiate a search party and go out and find him and bring him in. The hunt for Ned Loaf-tober was underway. I was thinking we could almost skip the (string) bass – no one would hear him anyway…….guess I’ll go get another watered down jack…..I was bored.

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Finally, they found him brought him in and said PLAY MOTHERF*CKER and everyone sat around some more and visited while he warmed up. I was thinking, What’s to warm up? Start banging your hand on those strings to do what you do, come on! (We probably wouldn’t have had a bass player after that if it were me.) I didn’t get home until almost 11:30, called Charlie and went to bed. That was my weekend.

This past weekend we had to do a few small jobs (at least they started out to be that way) on Saturday and I hoped to be parked in front of the TV in plenty of time to watch soccer. One of the jobs was redoing this patio underneath one of our client’s deck. Initially, when we discussed this job with one of the owners (the wife) she wanted just a few stones reset and leveled so it wouldn’t move when you stepped on it. I was skeptical from the beginning, to be honest. (Let’s just say I’m mostly skeptical about everything until proven wrong.)

When Charlie and I showed up on Saturday to do the job the husband was out there. He had just had knee surgery and was hobbling around giving directions while we did the job. His idea of the job was practically tearing up the entire patio, resetting all the stones and sanding in around them. Let it be a lesson in never discussing a job with only one spouse present and, of course, the wife wasn’t there to vouch for anything we discussed earlier. Charlie told him that we had only discussed this small area with wife and that if we had more sand left over that we’d spread it into the cracks of all the other stones. We basically reset a lot more than what we originally costed the job out at. I still was regretting that I didn’t charge twice as much especially since we were watched by the husband the whole entire time we did the job, too. (That in itself should have been $100 extra.)

We completed it, he was happy, wife who just conveniently came home as we were sweeping in the last crack was happy and I was like, F*ckin’ get me out of here “Let’s go.” I was ready to go eat a sandwich and watch soccer. I told Charlie that we weren’t doing anymore Saturday jobs the rest of the summer because it was too friggin’ hot and we have sh*t planned. We’re doing strictly maintenance work during the week and landscape plans until October. Here’s some pics of the job below.

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The next day we went out to our neighbor friend’s cabin on the lake. They were celebrating because the one that was waiting for the diagnose from the oncologist and the results of the cat scan was told by the oncologist that she didn’t know why the stupid, insipid GP had diagnosed that as she had broken her clavicle and there wasn’t any sign of cancer in the bone. Our friend pretty much felt like she had a new lease on life when she’d been believing for two weeks that her days were numbered. So, much celebration was had that day on the lake. We took the dogs and swam and stayed for lunch and dinner and then we took our worn out, sunburnt selves home.

IMG_5001 (Sadie was in an air-conditioned coma on the way back.)

Yesterday, we managed to watch the small 4th parade that morning over bloody Mary’s and holed up the rest of the afternoon watching Mr. Robot while I finished a landscape plan. None of us, including the dogs could stand to be outside more than 5 minutes until the sun went down. It was a pretty low key day. Later, we went outside in our boxers and watched the fireworks from the street and then went in and went to bed.