Rock Stars* (amended to correct names)

So, Padhraig's girlfriend Carrie spent a summer in Glasglow and, as a result, she is friends with Bob from Franz Ferdinand (she also knows a guy from Belle and Sebastian. She is quite well-connected which you would never guess from her unassuming nature). Whenever FF plays in Philly or nearby, Bob (yes, he and I are now on a first name basis, thanks) sets aside several tickets and backstage passes for her. In this way, Shawn and I were able to go to Tweeter on Saturday and see Franz Ferdinand and Death Cab for Cutie for free and we were very close to the stage so you could see the sweat stains of the musicians. FF was very good---energetic and funny and unpretentious. The lead singer wore a red shirt and tight black jeans and he looked like he had just stepped back into the present from 1986 which is cool now, I guess. Unfortunately, halfway through their set, three teenage girls getting "so wasted" on plastic bottles of Bud Light showed up in front of us. One girl kept trying to climb up on the seat in front of her and then apologizing for it to the people behind her and then doing it again. All carried tiny little purses that they kept swung under their armpits. With them was a kid with a shaved head and long underwear. I got distracted from the show by trying to figure out who he liked and who liked him. They left for awhile, but came back when Death Cab for Cutie played (is it just me or do two of the band members strongly resemble Jack Black?). Standing next to that group were two girls who pumped their fists in the air and sang along to every tune. Shawn explained that DC for C had touched them deeply and spoke to them about their own teenage angst. I couldn't stop thinking about how that one song "so this is the new year" appears on a collection of Christmas songs put out by Fossil (the company that makes the watches). My friend from Chicago Blair loved them too. I appreciated them from a distance, still watching the teen with the shaved head try to get the girl in the short ponytails to pay attention to him. He changed seats about 15 times in as many minutes. She didn't notice at all.

We were given back stage passes afterwards to hang with the band. I imagined a smokey room with bottles of booze scattered about and maybe a mirror or two with traces of white powder. Carrie said that her friend Bob and his counterparts are vegetarians and pacifists and so most likely don't snort cocaine. What is wrong with people who like nature? It turned out that I would never go backstage to hang with Indie, environmentalist rockers b/c FF had already gone back into Philly, though Bob left Carrie a note written in what appeared to be crayon.

We forced Padhraig's friend, John to drive us all into the city to North Star. To make a short story shorter, we were introduced briefly to Bob. I said, "Oh, so you were at the Weezer all day?" Luckily, he didn't hear me or couldn't understand my American accent or something, because he just said, Yeah, long day. I kept thinking, I'm next to someone who is almost sort of kind of a celebrity! It left me witless (I don't even own either one of their CDs and Shawn had to correct me earlier when I was talking about Franz Ferdinand as if the band were simply one person--you know, that one guy Franz Ferdinand who sings). A pint or so later as things were winding down, I met another band member--he gave me a bag of Utz pretzels to eat. I said, Who is your favorite person that you ever met? He said, Why, you, of course. I kept asking him questions about his family and life and dumb shit. He humored me somewhat and I think before I left I said, You did a good job tonight, even though I couldn't tell you what instrument he plays--some kind of guitart that is not the bass. (Okay--I just looked it up--his name is Nick McCarthy--he's a handsome, sharp faced guy with dark hair).

We arrived home at 3 AM and dropped into bed, exhausted and exhilirated and slightly disappointed by that one too small dose of fame.

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