Weekend in the Sun, Part 1

I'm not an outdoor person. You see how my skin looks pretty much pure white? Yeah, that's not because my webcam is so cheap. It's because I'm really the color of paper. Really white paper, too. If I had to guess why, my first guess would be my heritage. Something about the Dutch and Irish blood doesn't lead to a deep, rich, cancerous tan. But another reason would be my general policy of not going outside where that big fiery ball in the sky can get me.

But for some reason, my weekend was full of outdoor activities. That's not just weird because of the "outdoor" component; normally the only thing my weekend could be said to be "full" of is the internet. And maybe some television-watching. This time, though, I had a full schedule on both Saturday and Sunday: I participated in group activities with people I didn't really know. And the weird thing was that I enjoyed myself, which represents a significant departure from my normal reaction when plunked in with some strangers. Especially when it's a new group of people every day.

On Saturday, I went to a picnic. Yes! An actual picnic in a park with food and frisbee-throwing and everything! It was organized, to the extent that "organization" is the word for saying "park X at time Y", by the person who bought the tickets for the They Might Be Giants Show. It was a group of, I guess, about nine or ten people, of whom I knew two. One person was the organizer, who's on my trivia team. And the other person is the woman who painted my artwork. And then there were a bunch of other people who were . . . well, let me put it this way: I wasn't the only person dressed all in black.

In fact, although I don't think there were any full-fledged angst-ridden goths there, the invitation to the picnic made it specific that there was to be no corsets, parasols, or brie. And then, somehow, it turned out that about fifty feet away from us was a big ol' gothic barbecue. You think I'm making that up? Because I'm not. The Seattle gothic community, or one subset of it anyway, has a weekly picnic or something, and we chose the same park. So we sort of looked suspiciously at this "other picnic", which was fun. It gave our picnic kind of a weird feel, like we were distinct from that "other" party. Or maybe that was just me.

After the picnic, most of us went to the They Might Be Giants concert, which I enjoyed a great deal. I don't know if it's my favorite band, but I'm pretty sure that John Linnell and John Flansburgh are my favorite rock stars. And they did my favorite songs! Well, my favorite They Might Be Giants songs, anyway. In case you're interested, that would be Ana Ng, Birdhouse In Your Soul, Why Does The Sun Shine?, and Fingertips. And I never thought they'd do Fingertips live. It's the one on Apollo 18 that's 19 separate snippets of songs with lyrics like "Aren't you the guy who hit me in the eye?" and "What's that blue thing doing here?" It makes Apollo 18 a lot of fun to play on Random mode. I'm not sure whether it's supposed to be the logical conclusion of the TMBG tendency to write short, catchy songs or if it's supposed to sound like a commercial for "Hits of TMBG (Not available in stores) or what, but I enjoy it a lot. And I heard it live. Live!

I don't go to nearly enough shows. I keep forgetting that Seattle gets every tour. Really, every single tour. So any given weekend, I could theoretically find a big-time rock & roll show to go to. But I keep forgetting, so I come in to work on Monday and people say things like "Aw, dude," because people who go to shows every weekend say "dude" a lot, "that concert ROCKED!" Now, a show occasionally comes to my awareness, but I don't know if I can bring myself to go to the Dokken/Warrant/L.A. Guns show. I forget what my point was, except that it's nice to go to a show now and then.

Tomorrow: I go to the track and play the ponies!