Feeling: Dead tired. and muddy.
Listening to: Puppy is burning me copies of both CDs! whee!
Reading/Watching: nothing.

Much fun. Much much fun.

Opening act was Har Mar Superstar, and I'm sorry, but the only thing he's got going for him is his chutzpah. Think Aretha Franklin if she were white, male, and most likely gay. I feel bad for him, though, because he was booed after nearly every song (the crowd did not come to hear funky R&B type riffs. They came to mosh in a rainstorm, but that part of the story can wait).

He didn't seem too affected, though, saying after every number, "Give it up, 'cause I'm fuckin' amazing." He played for half an hour, and it was very very long.

It's been raining all week, and of course we chose this concert for our first foray into lawn seats, meaning get there as early as possible and stake your claim. The place was slippery with mud by six p.m.- two hours before the opening act.

At first we laid out our tarp, sat primly on cushions, took off our shoes, and shot dirty looks at anyone who ventured too close with their muddy feet. After people really started crowding in, and one too many rude people splashed right by, spattering us and stomping our tarp into the ground so it filled with lovely brown puddles, we gave up and stayed standing.

Then Incubus happened. I know people seem to think Brandon Boyd is the sex. I never quite saw it.

But I swear, there's something about me and musicians. On a TV screen they're passable, but give the man a mike and put him within five hundred yards of me and I want to unbutton his shirt with my teeth. Brandon, with his floppy hair, clear voice, sweaty pecs, etc., is no exception.

High point #1: singing "Mexico," the band took it down to mellow and played with eyes closed. The crowd, which had been singing along word for word, hushed and listened. In the end Brandon clapped for the guitarist. We all agreed.

High point #2: Groupie girls started throwing bras on the stage. Brandon picked them up and looped them over his arms, even draping a favorite one over his chest. Then he shot the girls a coy grin and asked, "So what are you wearing now?"

High point #3: It began to rain in earnest during the last song (it had been spitting up until then). We cheered for a full ten minutes afterward to get our encore, getting soaked and muddier and we didn't. frickin'. care. They came back at long last and played two more. Much joy.

The tarp was a lost cause, so we left it there. By that point, people were sliding down the hill on their backs, whooping wildly. Brandon asked "How's everybody out on the lawn?" and when we yelled like mad, he added, "Mud and rock concerts are perfect together. They're like peanut butter and jelly."

We brought three towels to keep Luna clean (I don't mind some mud, but I will not screw with my car), and used all of them. Clothes are in the wash, took another shower, etc.

Now it is time for bed.

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