The only reason that I haven't written anything in a while is because I have a few things to say but not enough of each to make it worth much. So I'll tell you a tiny bit about the time we went to Manhattan.
The other night
Royal played their first show. And it's pretty unanimous--they were the shit. Everyone was all quite comfortably smooshed together inside of what used to be a speak easy during the prohibition--drinkin' pineapple beers and wondering if the belly dancer is going to lose the sword that she has balanced so precariously atop her head. To everyone in the bar who kept asking me, I'm fairly confident that
Royal did not hire the belly dancer ladies. I can't say for sure but my
theory is that they know good music when they hear it and they follow
it. I can only speak for myself but I didn't think that them being there felt weird, either, because it
kind of all fit together in a strange way. I've been in a mood that just accepts the bizarre, lately, though. And there seems to be a lot of bizarre in this world.
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| Katie, Kristin, Libby, Willy, Ryan, fish bowl. |
They played their show--they were completely delightful and then we all took to the town until we were too sleepy to do much else. Katie and Kristin and I drove up there together but we picked up a few stragglers (one Douglas, one Willie, and one Willie's dismantled bicycle) for the drive home. And even though we were sleepy, you have to power through and keep your designated driver awake. So mostly we just flipped through the radio stations until we recognized a song and then we sang it. Loudly. And with various solos. Doug is very good at this game and executes a pretty mean falsetto. He forfeited the game, though, when he was belting out "California Girls" and fell asleep mid-sentence.
1 comment:
Best. Night. Evaaar!
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