Sunday, March 30, 2003

Sheila Divine's sold out gig last night was perfect. More so since my images from then are arresting, to be blunt and surefooted. Will be shuttling some over to their manager, pal Rich. Went up to their dressing room with Rich prior to their set and Rich said Hey guys, look who's here. They all turned and I queried Do you guys remember me from the art gallery? They all started laughing, recalling my photo demands to look enthralled and bend their bodies around artwork.
Some doofus proposed to his gal during the show and in retrospect that was the show's lowpoint. To date I've witnessed four such ultra publick proposals and there's a collective awkward gawking happening, waiting to see if She says yes, or no, or fuck off.
Half the Sheila Divine crowd booed the guy on his knees. Half were hootin' and hollerin'.
I was above the stage, shooting down from stage left and was vomiting onto the stage from 20 feet up.
She said Yes.
Dino, the head of security, led them off the stage.
I found the couple huddled oddly in a corner a little while later to id them. I asked Him So Why here? He said, very profoundly, very seriously, very ominously,
To create a moment that she'd never forget.
I can think of armloads of wondrous unforgettable manmade moments and oddly enough a mid-rock moment marriage proposal just isn't one of them.
Call me a coal-hearted poo-pooooher, just don't call me late for sushi snaxx.
On a similar note there are cats mating outside of my house as I write this. My sweet little neutered angel is not partaking - but his hooligan acquaintances are.
80s cheeseball alternative music is on the hi-fi and off I go to edit digital images into the sweet Sunday night into the gray Monday morn.

No comments: