SHARING THE SHOWS
So after a morning of attending academicspeak at the Rhetoric Society of America conference in Minneapolis and a nice afternoon run (much needed after all the carbs and red meat and pork I’d been consuming over the past week), my friend Shova picked me up from my Airbnb to head to the time machine. This time machine would take us back to the 90s to see two bands that provided much of the soundtrack for my college years (Barenaked Ladies and Better than Ezra), along with a more recent artist I dig (KT Tunstall). Shout out to Theta Gamma, my fraternity; from what I remember, we may have played the two former artists at our parties.
On the way up to the show, Shova and I talked advocacy and Netflix and music. We met on a Facebook group called Community of Single People, which provides a safe zone to discuss being single in a world that wants you to pair up (see soldieringforsingles.weebly.com for this one). The casino itself was a labyrinth, but we made it as Tunstall finished “Suddenly I See,” her most well-known tune. I was a little bummed to have missed it, but hey, she wasn’t part of the time machine. Once we got in, I was famished, so we headed immediately to the concession. The menu was quite varied; it read “Hot Dogs $3. Chips $2. Popcorn $2.” After downing two dogs and some popcorn, I was ready to roll. As Shova and I walked through the crowd, I took note that the crowd seemed more conservative than I’m used to. Most people were seated in their lawn chairs. Us, we don’t mind a little grass and dirt on our buttocks. I found myself sitting and bopping along with Better than Ezra as they busted out “Good” and a bunch of other songs I had never heard. After they finished playing, Shova and I had an interesting talk about the phrase “Minnesota Nice,” which is really passive-aggressive behavior. We deal with that in the South too. When Barenaked Ladies came on, I couldn’t resist dancing, even though I was the only one in my section. Shova wisely suggested moving toward the front, to which I happily agreed. Once we found our spot, I started dancing as if I were at a Phish concert. Probably a little unusual there, but what do I care? I didn’t really know much about Barenaked Ladies beyond “One Week” and “If I Had a Million Dollars,” but I must say that in our patriarchal culture, a group of men must be comfortable in their own skin if they’re going to name themselves the Barenaked Ladies. And Ed Robertson, the lead singer, is great at connecting with the audience. He rapped to welcome Kevin Griffin and KT Tunstall to the stage during separate songs. I usually hate when singers talk too much during their performances (“Shut up and sing!” is what I’m thinking) but Robertson tells great stories. He also had good advice for his son, which is when your alarm clock goes off, never hit it until both of your feet hit the floor. That’s good advice for more. After the show, it took us about 45 minutes to find the car, but we made it! And I slept like a baby. This morning, I sit in the Minneapolis Hilton blogging about this before I give my academic talk, surrounded by theoretical conversations regarding “genre” and “rhetorical moves.” It’s nice to just get down and write from the gut.
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May 2024
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