I'm too old for concerts, unless they're billed as 'intimate evenings' and I get an assigned seat number and am actually expected to sit and listen to music. It kind of makes me sad actually, to come to this realization after many years of being a concert whore, but the truth is that at 30, it's just not as much fun to stand for hours, listen to music, scream as if you're actually being heard (something I did not do because of the possibility of polyps on my vocal chords) and attempt to get a glance of the musician from hundreds of feet away from the stage.
There was a bad energy last night at the Electric Factory. Way bad. Lots of security men, in all shapes, sizes and colors, pushing their way through the crowd anytime they saw a puff of smoke elevate itself. They kicked one boy out next to me for smoking weed, and as they were pushing him to the way back of the venue, I heard the distinct sound of a metal bat *an instrument used to smoke marijuana, hit the cold, hard floor. He didn't want them to catch him with paraphinalia, but if I heard the metal from a few the feet away, the security guy with with the flashlight shoved in the potheads face most definitely heard the metal drop too.
There's more I'd say, but A. wants to leave so that we're not late for "the wedding." It's a college friends wedding and well..I'll leave it at that for now.
Back to New York I go..But I do love Philly...This morning I passed Betsy Ross' grave (she was married three times - which kinds of make her a little loose, or no?) and one of the guys she married was her dead husband's best friend (and her husband was barely dead)...
I also passed where Ben Franklin is buried and saw his grave. All in a day in Philly, all in a day...
Posted by jamye at July 29, 2021 01:14 PM