Time to take her home; Her Dizzy Head is Conscience Laden

I may be a little delayed in getting tomorrow's post up. I'll be driving up to the northern 'burbs of Atlanta to see the Stone Temple Pilots play. I found out a couple of months ago that STP was in the middle of a reunion tour this summer and one of the stops was at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre in Alpharetta. I double checked my calendar, found out that was an open weekend and bought tickets.

At my current stage in life and musical tastes, I wouldn't normally be all that excited about this show, but I was a different person in high school. Back then Scott Weiland was a god. His drugged out, over-the-top persona was the exact opposite of my subdued, drug-free style and he and his music were an outlet that kept me from really wanting any of that excitement in my own life. Watching Scott do his little wiggle dance and my impression of him were enough to sate my wild side.

I never could have been a character in that Lou Reed song, but I'm sure I'd never lose my head even if I were givin' head if I had to. Not sure if I could shave my legs in the back of the bus and on the way out to LA go from a he to a she, though. I'd probably need to shave my back too. And figure out a more comfortable way to tuck. I couldn't handle the chafing. I'd probably get kicked off of the bus before I got there. That one guy did have time to behead his neighbor and have a little snack up in Canada, though. So maybe I would have time to find a comfortable tucking procedure.*

I'm beyond that need to live hard and fast vicariously through a flamboyent rock star. The music really wasn't all that bad, though, and it's the only band of my youth that I regret not getting to see back when they were really around. For several years now I kind of assumed they were done for. Weiland was just too fucked up and his bandmates seemed to have moved on without him. Lucky for me, rock stars seem to have poor heads for numbers and you can usually bet on a lot of them to run out of money before too long, get over their personal differences for monetary purposes, and put on a bunch of half-assed shows for the fans.

I'm hoping my buddy Justin can get off from the liquor store tomorrow in time to join me. Kim's not too keen on being in the seat next to me, and I think Justin may have wet himself a little when I told him I had two tickets and one was his if he could make it. It'd be a better show with someone who was pumped to be there than with someone who was just there because they're married to me and have to be there because I bought the ticket.

* That's not entirely random. That's a spoof on a couple of the verses from the actual "Walk on the Wild Side" by Lou Reed.