So often, in reading other blogs, I’m reminded of things in my own life that I could blog about (does this mean that I can’t come up with my own blog ideas?), and meno’s latest is no exception.

last friday night, not this past one, rich & I went to charlotte to see the blue man group. we had looked forward to this night for a couple of months. the show was scheduled for 8:00, and it’s a 2 hour drive, but I didn’t want to get caught up in friday rush-hour traffic, so we left really early, which put us at the arena bout 2 1/2 hours before the show started.

so, we walked around the bus station and the area around the arena for a little bit. uptown charlotte (that’s what they call it, it seemed more like downtown to me) is nice, and, aside from the bus station, quiet. maybe I’m naive, but I have never been to a bus terminal, other than the little greyhound station in greensboro. I have never seen one like they show in movies or on tv. this one is big. there are 3 different fast food places in there, a little quickie mart, some bathrooms. it’s not a place that I would like to spend a lot of time, but it was cool.

so, anyway, we were finally able to get in and sit down. we were alone for probably 45 minutes, then people started filing in. and then…the MOUTH arrived. 2 parents, and 2 grown children. the son sounded about 15, contrary, rebellious, you know the typical teenage boy behavior. when I caught my first glimpse of him, I realized he had to be atleast 25, maybe closer to 30.

he was up and down during the show, gone for 10 minutes or so at a time; but he always came back, no matter how much I wished he wouldn’t. he argued with his dad the whole concert, about anything and everything.  thankfully the music drowned him out; unfortunately, the blue men don’t always play loud enough to drown nuisances.  and he would whistle at the end of every song.  which was not lovely, as it allowed me to smell his beer breath.

near the end of the concert, the band was playing, and he was arguing with his dad about who the original artist was.  his dad was correct, but he wouldn’t let it go.  I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I turned around and told the “boy” that the song was Crazy Train by Ozzie Osborne, which is what his dad had been saying for the last several minutes.  when I told him, however, he said, “I think you’re right.  thanks.”

soon after that, he disappeared for the rest of the show.  the parents grumbled about having to look for him in all of those people, and the mom told the dad he shouldn’t have let him go, because, he should, after all “remember the last time!”  I really wanted to know about the “last time” but didn’t dare ask.  I was just glad to be rid of him.

after the concert, I started to feel guilty about feeling so angry, but I got over it.   thankfully, the show was still very enjoyable.