The Rabid Roaming Fan
by: Lora Bong (yes, that is my real last name)
Hi, my name is Lora, and I am a Total Fan – yes, yes, I am! I know I should be embarrassed, but I am SO not! I’m a suburban mom with a crazed-out love for music and live shows. I have jars and jars full of ticket stubs exhibiting my crowning achievement in concert-going adventures. When heading out for an evening of loud music and great company, I feel like a shaken pop bottle ready to explode.
The melodic fix we music-lovers seek, all starts with the venues–the atmosphere setter of the evening; the bricks and mortar that will encase the beats and lyrics we flock to nightly to experience. New and hip, old character, cavernous or tiny, dank or neon, the venues set the stage – and I love them all. You walk through the doors and get hit in the face with the stank from the night before: stale beer, sweat, electricity, psychedelic second-hand stench, but hopefully no lingering puke (gag – stay away from the corners). Ah, the sweet, grimy smell of entertainment!
Once inside, the crowd is an excellent source of sidesplitting amusement. You see, I am way out of the dating scene, so I can sit back and watch the magic happen. Of course, you do have the true, music-loving folks visiting solely for the music, well, maybe the music and drinks. But much to our delight, there are plenty of audience members attending for the extracurricular activity, as well. Here are some of my all-time favorites:
The “Hawks” circling around the edge of the patrons with a glint in their eyes, looking for their evening prey.
The “Tripping Daisies” falling all over themselves and others, reassuring the crowd they really are not that drunk, (later to be the cause of long lines in the bathroom, while they monopolize the stall, hug the toilet, and claim it to be their new best friend).
The “Bumping Busters” knocking into everyone within striking distance, and showering their neighbors with drinks. Dude, don’t waste the beer!
The “Moshers” thinking that every concert must have a mosh pit and it is their distinct destiny to provide one for all to share.
The “Puffers” with their chests puffed out to the extreme like a wild, colorful bird in order to catch the attention of a potential mate. Ca-Caw, Ca-Caw!!!
The “La La Loopsies” innocently, naively, and poutingly flipping their hair in the direction of the above-said Puffer.
And the “Groupies”, man, do NOT get me started on the “Groupies”…
Ah, come on, you know you see the same shenanigans. I’m sure you do not fall into one of the above categories, or do you? Maybe one? Maybe a mix of a couple? I know, for sure, that “back in the day”, I crossed over at least a few of the categories. I’m not proud, but it’s true.
If you are really lucky, the evening’s show can start even before you cross the threshold. One night, while standing in line at the Gothic for our passes, a lone “gentleman” behind my friend and I started growling loudly and chanting Frankenstein. “Grrrrr. Arggggg.” His serenade continued for many moan-filled minutes. Stifling our giggles, we grabbed our tickets from the totally “non-Franketstein affected” ticket guy, and headed inside. You never quite know what to expect, and that’s the beauty.
Thanks to a dear friend of mine, I’ve been very fortunate to venture back stage on many occasions, but that, my fellow music lovers is a total other article!
As the curtains close on my first adventure, I want to invite you to take this journey into the bowels of fan-hood with me – you know you want to! Think of me as the “Where’s Waldo” of the local music scene, so to say.
Until next month, music hounds – Keep the music moving!!!
Category: The Post
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