On Friday night, I had the opportunity to see Ben Folds in concert for the second time. The show was excellent. The people were prime subjects for examination. Join me, won't you, as look into the cast of characters one might meet up with at a concert.
The Vulture
In the wild, vultures fly circles around dead or dying animals in anticipation of a fly-caked feast. At a concert, the vulture drives circles around the City Market where the concert is taking place, stopping their truck in the middle of the street to ask pedestrians who is actually performing in the concert that night. Upon hearing the name "Ben Folds" the vulture will provide a quizzical look - the type one might see on the face of someone attempting to set up their cell phone while using instructions written in Latin - and reply back in the most southern of twangs "Band Folds?"
I don't think the vulture ended up buying a ticket.
The bargain shopper
Just outside the gate to get into the concert, as it is with most events, there were folks in bulk working to purchase tickets and folks looking to sell. One particular buyer did not seem to have a convincing purchasing pitch. As others just spoke of wanting tickets for the chance to get in, this hopeful buyer hollered out that he wanted to "get a cheap ticket." Note to buyer: if I'm looking to sell my car and I know that there are several potential buyers, I'm not going to be sucked in by the guy who calls me saying that he wants to buy a car for cheap. The same goes for you and your ticket purchase.
The hippie lady who likes giving directions
While navigating the crowd to find the best locale for our concert viewing, we zipped in front of some folks and behind others. The band prior to Ben Folds played music slightly more rockish* than the featured artist, and some folks found such rhythms fit to dance to. Hippie Lady, with her braided hair and tie-dyed outfit, swayed to the music as if she were a shirt on a clothesline drifting in the breeze. As we approached Hippie Lady, she stopped her dancing, and - with an annoyed look gracing her face - went into air traffic controller mode. She waved for us to cross in front of her with the urgency of Dwight Schrute trying to get his office mates away from a fire. At no point did she ever shout "Have you ever seen a burn victim?" but it may have been coming if we hadn't hustled. After we had passed by, Hippie Lady went back to dancing in a manner that may have been last seen in 1969.
The guys with the funny-looking pipe
Maybe this one doesn't need examination. We better leave it alone.
One of the kids had an awful cough, though.
The Sleeper
Attending a "rock fest" takes a lot out of a person. In fact, for some, it's all they can do to stay awake for the 5.5 hours the show goes on. As you may have guessed, the sleeper didn't make it to the end. Instead he lay flat on his back on the City Market sidewalk, just feet away from the edge of the concert crowd and used the brick wall of a storefront as his pillow. Though the sounds of Mr. Folds' piano were quite amplified for all in attendance, The Sleeper snoozed as though he'd ingested a double-dose of Ambien.
Odds that he had ingested just far too much of something alcoholic by nature? Pretty strong.
The best way to end this Writing? With Mr. Folds' own clsing, of course. (Please note that the camera-work is not mine; just uploaded from YouTube. My cellphone video looks more like something filmed from a neighboring town and the sound features more static than a transmission from space.)
Ben Folds closing song
The Vulture
In the wild, vultures fly circles around dead or dying animals in anticipation of a fly-caked feast. At a concert, the vulture drives circles around the City Market where the concert is taking place, stopping their truck in the middle of the street to ask pedestrians who is actually performing in the concert that night. Upon hearing the name "Ben Folds" the vulture will provide a quizzical look - the type one might see on the face of someone attempting to set up their cell phone while using instructions written in Latin - and reply back in the most southern of twangs "Band Folds?"
I don't think the vulture ended up buying a ticket.
The bargain shopper
Just outside the gate to get into the concert, as it is with most events, there were folks in bulk working to purchase tickets and folks looking to sell. One particular buyer did not seem to have a convincing purchasing pitch. As others just spoke of wanting tickets for the chance to get in, this hopeful buyer hollered out that he wanted to "get a cheap ticket." Note to buyer: if I'm looking to sell my car and I know that there are several potential buyers, I'm not going to be sucked in by the guy who calls me saying that he wants to buy a car for cheap. The same goes for you and your ticket purchase.
The hippie lady who likes giving directions
While navigating the crowd to find the best locale for our concert viewing, we zipped in front of some folks and behind others. The band prior to Ben Folds played music slightly more rockish* than the featured artist, and some folks found such rhythms fit to dance to. Hippie Lady, with her braided hair and tie-dyed outfit, swayed to the music as if she were a shirt on a clothesline drifting in the breeze. As we approached Hippie Lady, she stopped her dancing, and - with an annoyed look gracing her face - went into air traffic controller mode. She waved for us to cross in front of her with the urgency of Dwight Schrute trying to get his office mates away from a fire. At no point did she ever shout "Have you ever seen a burn victim?" but it may have been coming if we hadn't hustled. After we had passed by, Hippie Lady went back to dancing in a manner that may have been last seen in 1969.
The guys with the funny-looking pipe
Maybe this one doesn't need examination. We better leave it alone.
One of the kids had an awful cough, though.
The Sleeper
Attending a "rock fest" takes a lot out of a person. In fact, for some, it's all they can do to stay awake for the 5.5 hours the show goes on. As you may have guessed, the sleeper didn't make it to the end. Instead he lay flat on his back on the City Market sidewalk, just feet away from the edge of the concert crowd and used the brick wall of a storefront as his pillow. Though the sounds of Mr. Folds' piano were quite amplified for all in attendance, The Sleeper snoozed as though he'd ingested a double-dose of Ambien.
Odds that he had ingested just far too much of something alcoholic by nature? Pretty strong.
The best way to end this Writing? With Mr. Folds' own clsing, of course. (Please note that the camera-work is not mine; just uploaded from YouTube. My cellphone video looks more like something filmed from a neighboring town and the sound features more static than a transmission from space.)
Ben Folds closing song
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