Aesop Rock

Ben and I traveled to Boulder, Colorado on the 18th for the Aesop Rock concert. We drove for nine hours (by we, I mean Ben,) in a freaking blizzard. The roads were hell, and we left so late that we had to drive straight to the venue without stopping at the hotel. The driving conditions and our tardiness did not detract from the fact that we had some amazing conversations, shared great stories, and witnessed things ranging from a palatial truck stop, to a horror-movie-esque gas station. We did manage to stop at the local Wal-mart near the venue to procure two silver sharpies; the sharpies were purchased with the hope that I would get Aes to sign the lyric book I mentioned in my previous post.

I was trying not to panic because we were running late, but I'm pretty sure that my excessive map checking and phone flipping gave away my anxiety. At one point while trying to find the venue I said something to the effect of "If we miss the show, my fucking life is over." I think my anxiety was compounded by the fact that I had consumed twelve times my daily dose of sugar, and we had been listening to an awful audiobook, Paulo Cohello's, Eleven Minutes, which could possibly be one of the most horrendous books I have ever had the displeasure of experiencing. As a serious aside, Cohello uses so much mystical language, and blatantly contradicts himself throughout the book, that I literally wouldn't hesitate to burn a copy of this novel. Anyway, we finally found the venue, The Fox Theater, but parking was virtually non-existent. It is a college town and we parked in a lot that was gated and had a sign stating that tickets would be issued for all cars parked after 11:30 p.m. I told Ben that the ticket would be worth it, and we parked.

Seeing "Aesop Rock" on the marquee literally gave me chills. We made it inside, and the show hadn't even started! I was so incredibly relieved that we didn't miss any of the show. We managed to get close enough to the stage that I could reach out and touch the stage, only two tiny people were separating me from the space that was going to be occupied by my favorite artist. The air felt electric to me, and the anticipation was literally making my chest hurt. Then, it happened, Ian Matthias Bavitz came onto the stage.

Aesop came onto the stage, and I screamed like a twelve year old at an 'Nsync concert. It was almost surreal seeing him perform, he literally sounds better live than he does on CD. His performance was flawless. He was accompanied by Rob Sonic and DJ Big Whiz, both accomplices helped to make the show one that I will never forget. Aesop dances like a total weirdo, but it fits with the music. At one point he was standing on one foot with the other leg stretched out behind him, both hands clasped in front of his chest, sort of like a handicapped ballerina. He smiles like a little kid, and closes his eyes when he raps. Between songs he gave numerous accolades to Big Whiz and Rob Sonic, there wasn't any of the pompous self-proclamations of greatness that most people associate with hip-hop. The only bling he wore was his wedding ring, that he pointed at and stated "I can't," to a skanky girl that was showing her boobs to him, and begging him to come over. This was a real performance, by a real artist, and the experience was better than I ever could have imagined.

He performed some of my favorite songs, "Labor," "No Regrets," "Daylight," "Nightlight," "Big Bang," "Catacomb Kids," "Fast Cars," "Pigs," and even Ben's favorite, "Fish Tales." Basically, I love every one of his songs, and each one made me happier than the previous when I witnessed his body spew the vibrations into the microphone. I could hardly move throughout the whole show, I just kept one hand on Ben's belt, and smiled from ear to ear!I probably looked handicapped with the way that I was acting, I have never felt so happy. It was surreal seeing his tattoos in person. I have stared at picture of this man for hours on end, and there he was, feet away.

The show ended, and he announced that he would be signing stuff at the merch booth. We waited for about fifteen minutes, and he came out. I stood in a line that was about three people long, and was poised like a dork with my sharpie opened in one hand, and my lyric book in the other. Each person that moved I took one small step forward.

I talked to Aesop Rock. I made Aesop Rock laugh. Aesop Rock put his arm around my shoulder. Aesop rock is immortalized in a photo where my head is resting on his shoulder. Aesop Rock signed my lyric book. Aesop Rock made my year, and he doesn't even know it.

I managed to stay cool as a cucumber during the encounter, but went beavershit crazy once we made it outside. I have never been so excited, I almost cried. I screamed, I beamed, and I hugged Ben over and over. We walked with our arms around each other, and I just kept repeating "I met Aesop!" I looked at the picture at least fifty times in twenty minutes. I called my mother and best friend (Travis) at two in the morning on a Thursday to tell them about the event. I now have the picture of Aesop set as the background on my Macbook and my Ipod. I'm getting the picture framed with the lyric book, and yes, I will gladly drive in inclement weather for hours on end to see him again, someday.

P.S. I feel terribly guilty that Ben didn't get a picture with Aesop, I didn't have enough of my wits about me to even offer. Thankfully, Ben didn't seem to mind.

Wrinkles

My little brother bought me gas today, and said "It's for your birthday dawg." My little brother put five dollars in my gas tank, I must be getting old.

Turning twenty-two on a Tuesday is one of the most uneventful experiences known to humankind. I wish all birthdays were always celebrated with the enthusiasm that is given to a child's fifth birthday, that would make for a fun aging process.

"Aes fucking Rock is in the building, the room looked up, looked down, kept sniffing." I bought tickets to see Aesop Rock in Colorado on February 18th. I'm happier than a make-a-wish recipient (mostly because I don't have a terminal illness,) but also because I adore that man's art more than it is possible to articulate. He is a lyrical genius, and a madman. I use the way I feel about Aesop to describe how I feel about love, and I judge potential mates based on their ability to appreciate his lyrics. If I was a more fickle person, I would have at least one of his album covers tattooed on my arm, or the Weathermen symbol, that's right, I love him that much. I hope I can get him to sign my Fast Cars, Danger, Fire and Knives EP Special Edition lyric book, and maybe snag a picture with him, that would be the tops. Also, if he sucks live it will be when my personal giant falls.

The Adventures Just Keep Getting Better

"When King Lear dies in Act V, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He's written "He dies." That's all, nothing more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is "He dies." It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with "He dies." And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know it's only natural to be sad, but not because of the words 'He dies,' but because of the life we saw prior to the words." -Mr. Magorium

Pepsi Challenge

Challenge: Holiday gas station slushees v. 7-11 Slurpees.




Verdict: Holiday kicked 7-11's ass.

Definitions

par·ent (pârnt, pr-)n.
An organism that produces or generates offspring.

Sometimes a parent simply produces and is otherwise useless afterward, nothing more and nothing less.

boyfriend [ˈbɔɪˌfrɛnd]n

a male friend with whom a person is romantically or sexually involved; sweetheart or lover.

Sometimes, shit just happens, and you can't explain it.

enemy [ˈɛnəmɪ]n pl -mies

1. a person hostile or opposed to a policy, cause, person, or group, esp one who actively tries to do damage; opponent.

Sometimes, it's the person you least suspect.

Thesaurus

exhausted (adj.) - drained of energy or effectiveness; extremely tired; completely exhausted; "the day's shopping left her exhausted"; "he went to bed dog-tired"; "was fagged and sweaty"; "the trembling of his played out limbs"; "felt completely washed-out"; "only worn-out horses and cattle"; "you look worn out"

Buttercup

I was supposed to go on a date tonight, but was still feeling sniffly and gross, so I cancelled. Rather, I invited two of my best friends in the whole world over, Travis and Steve. I cooked the two of them dinner (recipe courtesy of Vanessa The Beautiful Scientist;) we dined on Brie stuffed turkey burgers with grilled red onions and granny smith apples, nestled atop warmed ciabatta rolls. For sides we had a green salad, and multigrain tortilla chips with our choice of peach salsa, and a mango habanero salsa. The mango habanero salsa is to die for, the brand is "Mrs. Renfro's," I highly recommend it!

We sat around and laughed and laughed, as friends are wont to do. We looked at pictures of boys on Facebook, and I love that we can see pictures of hot men and make statements like, "But he's Mormon, such a waste," and "he's gay," and after moving to the next picture that is quickly followed with, "and apparently a bottom." Note: the aforementioned quotes were all a reference to the same person. We listen to Travis discuss the tumults of a committed relationship, and Steve and I discuss that we're bitter after breakups, but being single can be fantastic. We talk about the State of the Union Address, the Grammy's and the adjective "faggoty" is used by Trav, and then me (I don't recommend using this word unless you are in the comfort of close-gay company, and they use it first.)

Eventually the frozen Jr. Mints come out, and there is one more glass of wine to be had. I love my friends, and the ones that I have are the best. I can tell them anything, and they tell me what I need to hear. It was a fantastic evening, and I realized that it was probably better than any date ever could be.