Sunday, May 6, 2007

I went to an Indigo Girls concert

Before I begin, let me state for the record that I write this with an unblemished record of heterosexuality.
Let me also state for the record that I do not own a pair of Birkenstocks, and I drive a gas guzzling automobile that I leave running even when I'm sleeping...just to help the oil corporations and help spur along global warming. Now that we're clear...

Saturday and Sunday my little city played host to The Coexistence Festival. It was kind of an art fair and outdoor street festival celebrating diversity or religions or something like that. I'm still not really sure. Basically they closed off a 6 block area, and filled it with lots of music on about 4 stages, artists showing off their creations, authentic cuisine from lots of ethnic vendors, and falafel. Apparently falafel is very big in the world of diversity. Belly dancers from India, Spanish Flamenco groups, Chinese drummer guys. The works.

The headliner of this free festival was apparently a performance by the Indigo Girls. I know the Indigo Girls had one hit ten years ago for about 5 minutes, but who knew they were still around? I guess the hippies aren't into 50 Cent and P. Diddy like the rest of us. Now, this festival was literally going on in the streets about 50 feet from my apartment, so my whole weekend was spent with music and the smell of falafel wafting in my windows. I'm all for the persistent smell of meat, so no real problems there.

Around 3pm on Saturday, I'd just returned from the driving range - and heard a massive shrill shriek go up from outside my window. I'd last heard a similar shriek in 1998 when a new Backstreet Boys song came on at my senior prom....and the girls went nuts. Nonetheless, this piqued my interest - so I threw on my Birkenstocks shoes, a Johan Santana jersey, and headed out the door to investigate.

It didn't take long for me to realize that the shriek was for the Indigo Girls as they took the stage. It didn't take much longer for me to notice a plethora of chicks with short hair and jean shorts. I hadn't been on the street more than 45 seconds when I saw two chicks doing a little smooching action - and there weren't even any Girls Gone Wild cameras to be seen. This might be ok after all.

Still, I needed to put my armour on, so I immediately found a street vendor that was selling meat skewers - I bought 2, just to be safe. If nothing else, I figured a grotesque display of seared animal flesh would annoy the vegans and vegetarians in the crowd. I then took my meat skewers and walked over to the beer tent, where I figured the combo of meat, beer, and Santana would insulate me from the hippie love vibe.

The beer tent had a decent view of the stage, though slightly blocked by a Civil War monument right in my line of sight. I couldn't help but enjoy the irony if this incredibly phallic monument, topped by a male soldier with a mustache and a sword....overlooking an Indigo Girls concert.

After 2 beers and 2 meat skewers, I thought I'd stray from the safety of the beer tent to go for a closer look - and like Henry the Fifth, 'once more into the breach, dear friends'. I typically enjoy music of all sorts, but I have absolutely no clue what any Indigo Girls song sounds like, so I couldn't really even follow along. But apparently everyone else does. One dude, guy, male was way too into it, swaying back and forth and clapping as he recited each and every lyric. I immediately regretted not getting another beer.

All in all - it was a spectacular 75 degree day, I'd had meat, beer, and seen countless chickies hugging and making out. I also figure this might gain me brownie points somewhere down the road, when I can say, "Oh sure. I've been to Indigo Girl concerts. And I love saving the environment and supporting diversity and that kinda shit."

Here's a video I shot, so you can all live the hippie vibe with me:

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Two things:

1. Falafel is not meat, however, it's becoming quite the trendy alternative to meat though.

2. The Indigo Girls look really old.