So this past weekend was rather eventful for one as un-busy as I (well, un-busy in the non-work sense of the word: I don’t get out too much. Or wait, maybe I do get out a lot, and I’m just fooling myself. But I feel like I don’t get out much, compared, at the least, to some of my friends, who are always out. And not just out, but out late, and/or out drunk, neither of which I do much of). I, on Friday, attended the Death Cab for Cutie show at the Commodore, again with Lauren (Two fridays in a row! What luck I have!). Stars (of Montreal) opened, for once not with Broken Social Scene, and just like last time, were good, but the lead singer radiates pretention like a dwarf star (… radiates…umm..radiation?) and that’s somewhat off-putting. Lauren also reminded me of something rather personally horrible about the man, which I won’t mention as it’s but hearsay, but makes him even more off-putting. But the songs & the band are good.
Death Cab put on an excellent show, and played long, and didn’t play a cover of a cheesy top-40 pop song, and like everyone who visits from the states these days, apologised. I like the notion that they somehow feel personally resonsible in that they must apologise, and also that they assume that we might want/need one, but I have to say, a mere two weeks on, I already tire of the apologies.
Saturday involved running around in the fog playing ultimate, which was a lot of fun, and I played well, and thanks to the two ringers (one intentional, one accidental) we had playing with us, we won both games. Which brings our two-season win total to I think 4. Out of say, 40 games? And then post-ultimate there was slacking on the couch, which was very enjoyable.
Sunday involved the continuation of the couch-slacking, combined with CFL-viewing & some lap-top fixing. Then suddenly, it was 4, and I had to get dressed, shower & eat, in time to see The Magnetic Fields at The Vogue.
And I arrived decently early, and stood in line with Adam & Rowena (and shortly after my arrival,) & Ben, and saw yet others that I knew (everyone was there! why weren’t you!?), and then we all went in and ran down and sat in the second row, to be just that much closer.
But and so of course my seat, of all the seats, was actually broken, and if I leant back hard on the seat-back, it would break, and I would be leaning on the person behind me, whom I did not know, so I kind of had to sit up for the whole show, which was a distraction, given how cramped & uncomfortable those seats are. Not quite Ridge bad, but close (I also could not lean forward on my knees, as I normally would, because the person ahead and to the left was really stinky, so we were all leaning somewhat back to avoid his malodorousness (is that a word?)).
And opening was this humorous Aussie, named, umm.. Daniel Hanlan, or something similar, who sung a song about Squash, amongst others and was a congenial opening act. And shortly thereafter emerged the MFs, who did their arty, pretentious and wonderful thing, and everyone oohed and aahed and applauded respectfully, and I’m pretty sure that everyone went home happy.
& so, that was the weekend.