How do I get this guy alone?

To celebrate my wife's birthday, we went to the Heart concert last night at Wolf Trap. (For all the people who work in my office: Heart is a rock band.) We were on the lawn, so naturally it rained the whole time and we got soaked. But it was still a good show, and Ann Wilson can still belt out the high notes.

At one point, Ann and Nancy did a couple unplugged acoustic songs without the drums and electric guitar. Between the two songs, someone with an umbrella was passing on the sidewalk and paused for a moment, blocking the view. This prompted the guy next to us to yell at the top of his lungs:

"Move your fucking umbrella!"

"Down in front!"

"Move your fucking umbrella you dirty whore!"
And, you know, there wasn't a whole lot to see. They weren't even singing right then; they were just sitting on stools talking and holding their guitars. But the fact that a person with an umbrella was blocking the view apparently made her a dirty whore.

So anyway, this went on for about a minute, and I missed all of the sisters' explanation of what the lyrics to "Dog and Butterfly" mean. Which is, of course, something that has been plaguing me for decades.

No comments:

Post a Comment