But I still don’t like concerts. The Laird and I went to see Disturbed at the Full Throttle Saloon. He was surprised that I wanted to go, but I like Disturbed, it’s Sturgis Rally week (which is, I’m sure, why they bothered with South Dakota), and I’ve never been there or done any rally stuff.
In somewhat chronological order, my impressions:
It’s disconcerting to drive on two-lane highways with the oncoming lane filled with motorcycles. I kept expecting one to cross the center-line.
It’s even more disconcerting to drive on gravel roads with both lanes filled with motorcycles. The repeating “if he slips out on this corner, I need to go into the ditch over there” calculation is exhausting.
I’m the one who wanted to take the “back roads” route, but I didn’t realize how, um, “unimproved” the roads were. Now I know. And now I also know where the Buffalo Chip place is. Next year, I want to go to one of the MMA fights there (I think they’re there; I’ll figure it out, next year).
The mostly female bartending staff had interesting outfits. The faux-BDSM theme was a bit overdone. Best outfit: Skimpy top, red fishnets, and sensible shoes! She was dragging a drink wagon around the graveled arena; smart woman. Runner-up: The woman on drywall stilts with a crop wandering around pouring upside-down shots.
The concert was scheduled to start at 1800. The venue is about an hour away. We had general admission tickets. Logically, one would want arrive early. Life is not logical. Instead of leaving here at 1600, we should have left here at 2000. At 2200, Disturbed was still not on the stage. When we arrived (1700ish), I was surprised by the small crowd (possibly 1000, but probably fewer). By 2200, it had grown to the expected density (I can’t estimate, but while not crowded, it was fullish). All that empty space in the picture was full of people; dense, but not crowded.
The “saloon” is actually a complex. There are permanent buildings selling stuff and there were a number of popup tenty things selling stuff. The food is outrageously priced. My cheese steak sandwich (with that nasty liquid nacho cheese) was $22. The beer is reasonably priced for where it is: $7 for a PBR tallboy.
The things they print on t-shirts! I had a number of favorites, but I’m embarrassed to even type them. I had 1970s Nair commercial flashbacks due to “are those shorts or a thong?” short shorts. And it was not just the bartender(esse)s wearing fishnets. Apparently, it’s a biker chick thing.
The sound-check band was very off genre. They played country, quite well; although the drummer was a bit bland. They started around 1900. To be fair to the 1800 scheduled start time, the sound checks started at 1800. At this point, the crowd was still small. We were easing toward the general admission barrier as the sun set and the shadows/shade stretched in that direction. Aside from a few folks at the barrier, there was no one in front of us.
My vape died. Conveniently, they had a walk-in humidor so I bought a cigar (from a fishnet stocking clad woman in a black leather bustier). Also conveniently, it was done just before Disturbed came onto the stage.
The warm-up band was a better genre match. Hick-hop House Metal, maybe. Is that a genre? I have no complaints. I’m not going to look them up and buy a CD (do they still make CDs?), but they were fine. Moonshine something.
Between the bands, a troupe of scantily clad women jiggled their wiggly bits. Other than being mystified by the idea (what’s better than a crowd of drunken bikers? a crowd of horny drunken bikers, of course!), I felt a bit sorry for them. They had clearly worked hard on the routines (nicely synchronized, etc…) and were very obviously in great shape, but no one paid much attention to them.
Between the bands and the dancers were vast tracts of nothing. Two guys got up and said some stuff. One was some radio dude. I don’t remember who the other was. I have no idea what they talked about, but it didn’t take long. I would have thought that a concert venue with experienced bands would require less “fill”. They needed more. On the bright side, there were lots of friendly people just standing around willing to talk.
Speaking of standing, next time I go to an outdoor venue, I’m bringing chairs (some people did – or just took the bar chairs out into the arena). It’s nice to know that I _can_ still stand for seven hours, but that doesn’t mean that I liked it. More good news: I didn’t get wobbly. A six pack – spread over six hours – wasn’t enough to make me stumbly.
Speaking of talking, one of the friendly people (from British Columbia) standing near me was recording a bunch, but not all, of the concert. I asked him why and when he would ever watch it. His answer was surprising and surprisingly honest: To send to other people to brag and make them wish they were here. More than a bit narcissistic and an unhealthy friend, but honest.
This blog post will end as the concert did: Disturbed, finally. They were great, of course. I don’t go to many concerts (because I hate them, duh), so it was fun to see that they were real people and hear radio-play music (as opposed to local cover bands or songs one has never heard of) live.
Sounds of Silence ended around 0000, so we called it good and left a bit early to get ahead of the about-to-be-insane traffic. The Laird took a different route home (through, not around, Sturgis) so we avoided the gravel road; most of the trip was on the Interstate.
Marked Up 