State of the Union or The Rolling Stones?

Last night I faced a dilemma. Do I stay home to watch Bush, or take my wife, who doesn't get out of the house much due to having a 5 month hold baby girl, to see The Rolling Stones?

Easy, easy, easy. Bush. Just kidding. We went to see The Rolling Stones.

First off, I would not have paid what they were asking for tickets to see them, but since a generous friend offered us tickets it was a no-brainer.

The People: I would have paid 300 dollars just to see the people that came to the concert. The lady sitting near us in a faux leather halter top whose stomach stuck out further than her boobs and who had no sense of natural rhythm and spent the entire concert dancing like one of the bad puppets you buy at the state fair or at certain Mexican marketplaces.

The burned out hippie/stoner who left to go the bathroom halfway through and never made it back. I wonder if the incredible quantity of beer he consumed had anything to do with it. His friend finally left to look for him, and he never came back either.

The 35 year-old woman who my wife was convinced was a stripper for the inappropriate way she kept touching herself while she danced at her seat.

The 60 year old lady behind us who sat in her chair the entire time and clutched her purse like it was Altamont and The Hell's Angels were sitting around her.

And finally, us. We don't own any Stones records, we should, I know, but have listened to enough classic rock radio to appreciate about half of the show. The other half was good, but when you don't know the songs, it lessens your enjoyment.

Article Author: Chris Cotner

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