Symphony delight

Laurel and me meeting Chris Botti, guest trumpeter with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra.

Absolutely fabulous evening. I cried several times throughout the show. Such a moving and wonderful experience. Really, I must recommend going. Tickets for the symphony can be so cheap; we got ours for $19 each.

I constantly go on about how I am not a "music is my life" person, as I call it. It's just become so trendy. I blame iPods for this. Everyone has to be so music obsessed. One must have his little soundtrack to his life playing at all times. Blah. iPods are to music what fantasy leagues are to sports, but whereas the concept is good for sports (more people interested in more games), it's terrible for music (an entire art form has been reduced to a fad).

But, I digress. Although I refuse to sit around and talk about how much music means to me, or how it is the universal language, or how terrible and lost the world would be without it, and blahbitty blah...I do have an appreciation for what it can do with human emotion. I sat tonight and was overwhelmed. I hear music and see things--it conjures images. I imagine scenes that match the mood with characters and story lines. And nothing is better than a concert. I'll see anything live. The concert atmosphere just gets me every time and I adore it.

I recommend looking up Botti. He's a masterful jazz musician. And try branching out to classical if you haven't yet dared to give it a try. I was surprised.


Let it Rain

Another late post. It's going to happen more and more as I only have internet access at my father's but stay with my mom rather frequently, but enough with the excuses. Let's get to the craziest night, possibly ever.

Went to Oakland, got a shot, chilled with Laurel, went to Dara's, met up with the guys, headed back to Bar 11.

Last night, Bar 11 was a chill dive bar with a laid back atmosphere and a, shall we say, minimal clientele.

This night was different--earth-shatteringly different.

Approached the bar to find 3 cops and a bouncer standing outside. There was a line, and music and loud voices poured out onto the street through the windows. A girl appeared from the door wearing an innertube and soaking wet.

We paid our cover and offered up our ids, but had to wait for some people to exit as the space was at capacity. At capacity.

The door opened for us, and we were greeted by a nearly naked man (and several others scantily clad in beach wear. Water was streaming from the ceiling, and a 1/2 inch thick puddle had formed on the floor. Goggles and squirt guns decorated the bar top and every other flat surface. The air was thick and hot and wet, and sweaty, soaking bodies were forced up against you from all sides.

At capacity.

We laughed, danced, ducked under plastic tarps in order to access the ATM, and exchanged glances of amazement, amusement, and utter disbelief at the display unfolding in front of us for the remainder of the evening.

Again, my life is a movie. Again, Pittsburgh is the greatest place on earth.

No photos of said craziness, as cameras and sprinklers do not get along. However, here is an awe inspiring pic of the lovely miss Laurel and me in Shadyside.