Lazy Movie Weekend: Sons of Rydell High

There hasn't been a Lazy Movie Weekend in forever! I guess there were just too many things happening this summer to spend time hanging around my apartment watching movies. Granted, that didn't stop me from going to a theatre to watch movies. Today's LMW takes us out of my apartment and to the comfortable reclining chairs at the Alamo Drafthouse Woodbridge. But first, a musical interlude:

Yes, boys and girls, it's time to go back to school with the lovely Pink Ladies and the lovable T-Birds from Rydell High. I've never seen this movie in a theatre (it came out in 1982, I was three), and have always wanted to. The Alamo made that dream come true. If you've never been to an Alamo Drafthouse, I highly recommend that you take a trip to one as soon as humanly possible. There are three in Virginia - Winchester, Ashburn, and the newest location, Woodbridge, so there are plenty of options for you to explore. Alamo is an independent movie theatre chain from Austin, TX. I appreciate many things about the Alamo experience: it's a full service theatre, so servers bring food and drinks to your seat, you can drink beer while watching movies, and their popcorn is amazing.

Even better, is that the Alamo has special events. Events range from special showings of current movies, like that time I went to a ladies only screening of Wonder Woman, to anniversary screenings of movies to sing-alongs and quote-alongs. They even have afternoon tea with themed movies. My mom had a blast at our first tea with a screening of Marie Antoinette. Alamo has this great series called "Champagne Cinema" and Grease 2 was the featured movie on Labor Day. Finally, someone understands the value of this movie as the back to school gem that it is. Did I mention the props and themed drinks? We got a pink bandana, candy cigarettes, a handy guide to using our props, and drank a "Cool Rider."

(Yes, we all waved our flags during "Do It For Our Country." If nothing else, we are patriots.)

I love Grease 2. We can argue all day about Grease 2's superiority to its more famous movie sibling, Grease, but I will always win because Grease 2 is better. It just is. The music is better. The choreography is better. The dream sequence is amazing. I'm not claiming Grease 2 is a feminist movie, but it's not as horrifyingly misogynistic as Grease. The women of Grease 2 are way more interesting than any of the original Pink Ladies and they don't take the T-Birds nonsense. And Rex freaking Manning is in this movie.

And did I mention there are motorcycles? In this installment, the T-Birds have become a motorcycle gang. This is funny for two reasons:

1. There are only four of them. I feel like a gang requires more than four people.
2. I'm currently watching Sons of Anarchy on Netflix. This will be very important as I watch Grease 2 at the Alamo.

Sons of Anarchy ran on FX from 2008-2014. I didn't watch it when it originally aired, but decided to start watching the series the day before going to see Grease 2. The show focuses on a fictitious motorcycle club called the Sons of Anarchy. They live in a little town called Charming (which makes me giggle) and are generally badass and awesome, but you know, also participating in criminal deeds like gun running and killing people. Like the T-Birds, the Charming chapter of the SOA seems small; I feel like they could also use some new members especially given the rate at which members are incarcerated, excommunicated/set on fire, and killed. 

I watched the entire first season of SOA in a day and half, so I had approximately 13 hours of motorcycle club drama swirling around in my head as I sat in the theatre to watch Grease 2. A lot happens in season one, including a stalker, club rivalries, the appearance of a horrible ATF agent, a hit gone horribly wrong, and Katey Sagal (she's awesome). I even took an online quiz to determine who my SOA husband would be (I'll let you guess). I'm also planning on starting the FX spinoff show Mayans MC this weekend; it premiered this week and I've been told by my SOA-watching friends that I can watch Mayans even though I've only just started the other show. Thank goodness.

So back to Grease 2. I haven't closely watched this movie in years. It's been on one of the movie channels recently, so I've caught bits and pieces, but like every movie I've seen a hundred times, it's usually just on as background noise. Being surrounded by other people who could quote and sing along with the movie made me feel like I'd found my people, my own gang, although I'll never see most of these people ever again. I always feel on the edges of fandoms, but with this little movie I feel right in center with all the other people singing their hearts out to "Cool Rider."

Since I was watching the movie closely, I have five lingering questions about Grease 2. This is a musical so reality stepped out the door the second the entire student body did a choreographed entrance to the first day of school. Still, I wonder about things. It's how my brain works and I can't help but have these five questions:

1. Why are there only four T-Birds? I get it, we can't have a cast of thousands and we needed an uneven number of guys and girls for the whole love triangle thing, but isn't it better for a gang to have more members? The bowling alley sequence proves this point; the T-Birds would have been pulverized if the Mystery Rider (psst...it's Michael) hadn't shown up. 
2. Where did Michael learn all those jumps? He gets his bike about a month to two into the school year and is somehow an ace rider by spring? This seems completely unrealistic especially given the jumping part. Where was he practicing? How did he never look banged up, given that he probably would have had a few spills as he was learning to ride a motorcycle?
3. Where does the rival gang go to school? Every single member of the Cycle Lords (yep, that's their name) looks to be about 30 years old, but we're supposed to believe that they are the rival gang of the T-Birds, who sort of look like older high school students. Did they go to whatever school the band is shouting about during practice? Are they really adults who can't shake their gang ways, but aren't ready for the big time so they just have a weird rivalry with a high school gang? Balmudo, the leader of the Cycle Lords, was in the first movie too (he brought Cha-Cha to the dance), but again, he looked like he was in his 30s, with three kids at home, and a pack a day smoking habit. This does not compute.
4. Who owns the Pink Lady car? At various points in the movie, a different Pink Lady is driving the car. Do they share it? Does it rotate between the members? Is the car passed down from Pink Lady group to Pink Lady group at graduation? Does Dolores inherit the car at the end of this movie? Did they pay dues and that's how they paid for the car? Do the T-Birds have a role in this since Pink Ladies are tied to being T-Bird chicks. How does this work?
5. How is it that the adults' reaction to the motorcycle gang showdown at the luau is to say "Michael?!" in the same breathy, surprised way Stephanie does rather than calling the cops? Eve Arden as Miss McGee is about as no nonsense as you can get in a principal in a musical (she had to put up with John Travolta in the first movie; she deserves a medal), so I can't imagine her first reaction is to be all jazzed up about the school nerd being a badass motorcycle guy. Yes, she has a place in her heart for the T-Birds, but come on! Someone has to be the adult in the room.

In addition to these five questions, I kept thinking about the Sons of Anarchy and how ridiculous/awesome it would be for them to just randomly break out into song during the show. I get it, SOA is not a comedy. I'm on the second episode of season two; there's literally nothing funny about what's happening right now. I love Henry Rollins, but I'm a hard time with him on this show. But as I was watching Grease 2, I couldn't stop placing the SOA in the songs, particularly the song "Prowling." This is the song the T-Birds sing at the talent show towards the end of the movie (it's Grease equivalent would be "Greased Lightning" which is a horrible song). "Prowling" is about picking up women in a grocery store, which if you've ever been to a Trader Joe's in NOVA on a weekend, is a real thing dudes do.

I could see Bobby, with his propensity for Elvis impersonations, stepping into the Johnny role because he has the star power to do it. I'm torn as to who would be his back up singers, but I think it would be Opie, Juice, and Chibs. They seem like they would take a musical number in stride, have some laughs, maybe do it for charity as Gemma is always trying to keep the club involved in community activities. Maybe Jax could sing Michael's ballad "Charades." It could work, given Jax's knowledge of what really happened to Donna and his disillusionment with the club. If someone who has the talent wants to create a SOA/Grease 2 mashup for me, I will be most pleased.

Until then, I'll keep watching SOA and envisioning musical numbers and trying to figure out if the T-Birds or the Cycle Lords would have been a good chapter addition for SAMCRO (Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Redwood Original, for those of you who have never watched the show).

Or maybe I'll just head back to the Alamo. There's a screening of Carrie coming up soon or maybe I'll go see Clueless, so I can quote my way to 1990s glory.


Coming soon: I watch all three versions of A Star is Born to prepare for the new version starring Lady Gaga, I'll unveil two major embroidery projects, and I get crafty at a baseball game. 

SOA picture
Back to School
T-Birds
Prowling

Sharknado Time Machine

Not too long ago, I wrote about the anticipation I always feel when attending a concert. When I'm really into a band and have been looking forward to the show, my expectations around what is going to take place go into hyper-drive. I have a list of songs I want to hear. I want the band to fun and not too aloof, but aloof enough if that's their thing. I don't know if other people feel this way when they go to shows. Maybe it's just me.

I feel this way about specific types of movies as well. Movies that fall into this category include: MCU movies, anything based on a musical, movies based on books I love, Quentin Tarantino movies, any movie involving a combination of Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, and Edgar Wright, and Star Wars universe movies. Of course, I also love really terrible things so I have to add one major movie type to this list:

SyFy's Sharknado franchise.

 

No one is ever going to say that any of the Sharknado movies are great pieces of cinematic art. They weren't created to be such things. If I wanted high art and sharks, well, I don't know that there is a movie that's both. SyFy movies are supposed to be fun and ridiculous, low on the budget, high on the suspension of disbelief. They're the equivalent of Hallmark Christmas movies for sci-fi/horror set. When the first Sharknado movie premiered way back in 2013,I thought it was hilarious. It reminded me of all those terrible movies I'd stay up late watching when I was a teenager. Like Troll 2 before it, the first Sharknado was campy, totally unbelievable, and the perfect summer movie. Who knew it would become a huge pop culture phenomenon and every celebrity would want to make an appearance in future movies? Who could have predicted that the creators and cast would stick around for six whole movies? But it did and they did.

The summer release of a Sharknado movie became an event. People live Tweeted the movies and created drinking games and themed parties. There's even a book called How to Survive a Sharknado. I know this because my brother bought it for me. On a few occasions, I had a long distance viewing party with my friend, Jessica. I got into the spectacle of the spectacle. A new Sharknado movie was something I looked forward to, even going as far as to put it on my calendar. SyFy had me hooked.

The first three movies were good in the way these types of movies are good. I spent the first movie counting how many ways sharks were killed during the movie and lamenting, but predicting the death of John Heard. The second movie featured both of the Julie Browns (from MTV) as well as everyone who ever worked at NBC/Universal (I assume it's a job requirement to make an appearance). The third one took place partially in DC and Nova returned. My favorite thing about the fourth movie was that I got to make a joke about kickstarting Vince Neil's heart and the Sharknado Twitter-verse thought it was funny (because the Sharknado Twitter-verse is a thing). The fifth movie gave us something none of knew we needed: the Sharknado Sisterhood. I would watch an entire movie about the sisterhood if that was a thing.

Anyway, I didn't even realize the sixth movie was happening. Yes, the fifth one left us with a cliffhanger involving time travel and the youngest son and other stuff I don't really remember. That means very little in the life span of a SyFy movie or really anything that people love. Just because there should be a sequel or another season of something, doesn't mean we get it (I'm looking at you, Joss Whedon). A few weeks ago, it dawned on me that I hadn't heard anything about a sixth movie. I checked Google and found out it was a thing and marked down the date on my calendar.

I have no idea what I watched last night.

I DVR-ed the movie when it originally aired and finally got around to watching it last night. Twenty-two minutes into the movie, I still wasn't really sure what was going on. It was originally about defeating the first sharknado and there were dinosaurs and people who died in the last movie were alive again. April, my least favorite character, learned how to fly a pterodactyl. There was a capacitor, like in Back to the Future. But then they were time traveling, sort of following youngest son Gil, who had come from the future to save the family in the fifth one. He was searching for them, but apparently you can only go back in time once. Eventually, there was an army of evil April robots and we made it back to the original shady deal boat from the very first movie. And then the sharknados stopped and the Shepard family was whole again and Nova was going back to college and John Heard never died...because the sharknados never happened.

Or something.

The Last Sharknado jumped the shark. I would argue that the Sharknado jumped the shark three movies ago, but hey, I'm not a studio executive who makes decisions about what does and doesn't get made. Am I sad I watched the sixth one? Absolutely not. There are three reasons for this:

1. Neil deGrasse Tyson
2. Alaska Thunderfuck
3. Christopher Knight

I expected none of these people to appear in a Sharknado movie, but here they are in the same one. Neil deGrasse Tyson and Alaska even appear in the same section of the movie, which is probably something neither one of them ever thought would happen. Who would cast an astrophysicist and a drag queen as Merlin and Morgana respectively? The Sharknado people, that's who. This specific sequence was the reason I enjoyed the first movie so much. It was over the top, including Merlin declaring, "Who needs science when you have a dragon?" and Fin pulling Excalibur from the stone, except that the sword's blade was in the shape of a chainsaw. Alaska/Morgana disappears with a trademark Alaska "Byeee" that was everything it needed to be and more.

Christopher Knight, better known as Peter Brady (the best Brady brother), was oddly endearing as Nova's grandpa. It's his death, at the jaws of sharks, when Nova is a little girl that leads her to her destiny as a sharknado fighter. This section also gets into a story line that comes up frequently in these movies: Fin being the worst. He and Nova argue about whether she should save her grandpa's life, with Fin being the worst and telling her she can't. Of course, things don't go as planned, and we end up with an army of evil robot Aprils. Christopher Knight as grandpa was the most genuine example of family goodness in the movie. It was another unexpected moment.

The sixth Sharknado was a lot like going to see a band I really like and all they played were crappy songs from their terrible new album; not quite what I wanted but not completely unenjoyable. I've done my job and watched all six movies so you didn't have to.

More importantly, if I don't want to enter a room with the confidence of a mediocre white man, I can enter a room with this thought instead:

Sharknado motivational poster
Frye meme
Merlin

DC Days: Prison View Estates

I have a habit of telling visitors to the museum where I'm a volunteer that the building has had "a lot of lives." Originally built as a Masonic Temple in 1908, the building would eventually be home to movie theatres (both legit and blue), offices, and eventually the only museum in the world dedicated to championing the works of women artists. Depending on the visitor, I might also share some of the history of the building that currently houses our museum shop, but it has to be the right visitor. Some people don't like to talk about sex shops. I usually end the discussion with some comments about the importance of place an the role we play in both preserving and continuing history. This is the kind of conversation that makes me an excellent docent.

I was thinking about this when I visiting the Workhouse Arts Center for a beer festival over the weekend. I've never been to the Workhouse Arts Center before. Until 2001, it was, in fact a prison. Construction began on the Lorton Reformatory (also called the Lorton Correctional Complex and the Occoquan Workhouse) the same year my museum started its life as a Masonic Temple in 1908. The first prisoners would arrive in 1910 and would be responsible for building much of the prison complex over the years. The Workhouse has a random history, originally opened as part of an experiment in open air prisons. The idea was to see if that prison set up would be better for rehabilitating less violent offenders like vagrants, drunks, and "family abusers." The original prison didn't have the brick buildings, but tents and open fields. Female prisoners were sent to the prison starting in 1912, mostly serving sentences for prostitution or disorderly conduct.

In 1917, the prison would become the center of the suffragist movement when many of the "Silent Sentinels" were arrested and held at the Workhouse. These were women like Lucy Burns and Alice Paul, arrested for their silent protests outside of the White House. On the night of November 14, 1917 the women were tortured and beaten in a night known as "the Night of Terror." The women would eventually be released and many sentences would be vacated. President Wilson changed his mind about suffrage not long after these events, moving the passage of the 19th Amendment forward (this is a very simplified version of what happened, but you get the point).

When my family first moved to the area in 1992, I remember driving past Lorton Prison and the neighborhood next door. There was a house on the corner that boasted the following sign:

I thought it was funny and weird in the best way possible. I remember wanting to visit, but not in a "I should get a prison pen pal" sort of way. It was always more like, "one day this probably won't be an active prison and I should come take a tour when they make into a museum" kind of way.

Lorton was decommissioned as a prison in 2001. The property was sold to Fairfax County the next year and is part of the D.C Workhouse (another name) and Reformatory Historic District. When it was decommissioned part of the law stated that the space had to be used for recreation or parkland. The Lorton Arts Foundation sought to use the land and facilities for an arts complex. In 2004, this was finally approved and the Workhouse Arts Center was open in 2008. The complex includes studio and gallery space for artists, open land for festivals and sporting events, and specials events. It's like the larger, weirder sibling to the Torpedo Factory in Old Town Alexandria. The Lucy Burns Museum is also underway, telling the story of 91 years of prison history.

I've been curious to see what Lorton is like now that it's an arts center. Does it still feel like a prison? Is it weird to have a studio in a space that was probably a cell at one point? Is the kiln the same kiln used to fire the original bricks prisoners used to build the prison? I can't say that I answered any of these questions during my first visit. I attended the 3rd Annual Workhouse Arts Center Brewfest. Drinking beer and spirits from Virginia (and a few neighboring states) breweries and distilleries at a decommissioned prison/arts center seemed like a good way to spend a Saturday. It was a beautiful (hot) day. The festival was fun, the beer was delicious, and I got to taste a whiskey made from George Washington's original recipe.

The buildings have been restored and reconfigured enough in the buildings we visited that they don't look like a prison per se. There's definitely an industrial vibe and the ceilings are low, but it doesn't scream "Cell Block A" or anything. The gallery was well lit and the artist I talked to really liked working in the space and being able to show his work. I wandered into an exhibition about the suffragists and ended up buying a t-shirt from a very kind docent who seemed impressed that I owned a "Jailed for Freedom" pin from the Alice Paul Institute. She and i discussed the Lucy Burns Museum; she encouraged me to come back and see the current exhibition when it was less exciting outside (her words not mine).

There are definitely parts of the grounds that have remained untouched since 2001 (or at least aren't as heavily used). Those areas, which you can see from the parking lot, remind me of driving past Lorton when it was an active prison. They look sad and institutional. I'd like to go back and visit the museum and spend more time in the gallery spaces. Maybe take a class sometime. Like my museum, the next life of the Workhouse seems to be one where history, art, and community meet. I like this new life for the Workhouse. It gives me hope.

Prison View Estate photo
Other photos by me

Old Lady Concert Rules: Twirling, Twirling, Gone

Old Lady Concert Rule #15 (maybe): Keep your twirling to yourself!

It's been almost six years since I first put the Old Lady Concert rules to paper. Of course, by "paper" I mean I wrote an Island post about them. The rules have been modified, added to, and discussed at great lengths since that post. Most recently, I created a new rule for wearing the shirt of the band you're going to see after experiencing an entire city of people being that guy. I refer to this modification as "the Tim Rule" because my friend Tim asked about an exception and he deserves one. What I realized recently is that I've never addressed a very important topic in the Old Lady Concert rules: dancing.

I'm an awkward dancer. I took dance classes as a child and I was in the chorus in musicals, but neither one of those things equals confident dancer. I could blame lots of things for this particular awkward trait, but it comes down to self-confidence in my late teens and early twenties. I'm sure others can relate to this. As I've moved into my thirties (almost to my forties), I've decided I don't really care anymore and want to spend my remaining concert going years rocking out and dancing as awkwardly and exuberantly as I can. However, my dancing should not impede the enjoyment of others at any concert. This brings us to our newest Old Lady Concert Rule: Keep your twirling to yourself.

One of my favorite parts of going to concerts is people watching. This is particularly true when I go to shows featuring bands I'm not as interested in as my concert buddy. People watching gives me something to focus on when I don't know the words to the song or don't have a super emotional connection to what's going on. At shows I'm 100% into, it's a fun way to see how other fans of a band or musician I like react to the same music. Is there a lot of close-eyed swaying or toe-tapping? How many white dudes are doing their best to do something with their bodies that sort of resembles dancing, but also might resemble getting dressed in really tight clothing? Concerts are mini-communities and we all have our role to play in those communities. My decision to create a rule about dancing isn't about judgment or not wanting people to express their joy at a show; it's about being socially and situationally aware. Let's face it, an intense twirler can ruin a concert for everyone.

Let's break down my favorite concert dance forms. I freely admit to being many of these, despite my tendency to dance awkwardly in public. Sometimes, the music is in control and you have to let it be expressed through the muse of dance (thank you, Corky St. Clair).

• The Twirler: I went to Lilith Fair in 1997, so I'm no stranger to twirlers at concerts. I was also a little girl at one point in my life, and while I didn't love wearing dresses when I was younger, I did love to twirl. The fun of twirling really can't be put into words; if you've never twirled, stop reading and twirl around wherever you are for one minute. Don't you feel magical? I get it, sometimes the music is so much that you have to twirl. I want nothing more for you than to embrace your inner Stevie Nicks and twirl and twirl and twirl. Except when we're in a small, somewhat confined space, like say the 9:30 Club or most other small, bar venues. Twirling is probably the least ideal dance form in small spaces. Drink spillage alone could cost you hundreds of dollars if the people impacted want you to buy them a new drink. Or you twirl too much and hit someone right in the eye. Twirl with caution, which is probably a song on Stevie Nicks' next solo album.
• The White Dude Shuffle: White dudes dancing is one of my favorite things to watch at a concert. There are many levels to white dudes dancing, but the the White Dude Shuffle is by far the most expressive and fun to watch. The White Dude Shuffle is all about the arms and slight movement from the left foot to the right foot, but it's really about the arms and waist motions. I see this type of dancing at every type of show I go to; it's slightly out of sync with the rhythm of the song. The best White Dude Shuffle happens at punk and hard rock shows when a guy doesn't join the mosh pit melee, but still wants to groove. Nothing says concert entertainment more than a bunch of burly, heavily tattooeed white dudes shuffling to a Dropkick Murphys or Violent Femmes song. (Confession: This dude is my type. I can't help it. If he looks like the diner owner in season one of Stranger Things, I'm done.) The one thing to watch out for is eye closing; for whatever reason, a lot of eye closing happens with the White Dude Shuffle. This could be bad for you if they shuffle too intensely because it could quickly devolve into elbowing and then you're attending a hockey game you didn't want to attend.
• The Swayer: My brother is a swayer. A swayer is a person who sways in time to a song. Swayers are the most unobtrusive concert dancers; they have virtually no impact on anyone else; most of us are a swayer at some point in our concert-going life. Swaying is easiest when you attend a show where you don't have any vested interest in the band because you're involved, but not heavily involved. Where the Swayer becomes problematic is when he or she (I'm sometimes a swayer) gets so into the swaying that they dance dangerously close to the line of twirling. If you see a swayer moving past their personal space, hold your drink and prepare for modified twirl.
• The Air Guitarist/Drummer: When I went to see AC/DC two years ago with my brother, Dave Grohl was in attendance. Dave is from NOVA and is a huge AC/DC fan so it made sense that he'd pick this show to attend. We were directly across the arena from him. This meant we could see a blurry Dave Grohl the entire night. He did what I thought he might do for much of the concert: he air drummed. Air drumming and its cousin, air guitar playing, are a lot like twirling in that they can take up a lot of space and possibly cause injury if no one is paying attention. Both of these activities can be great if a person is at a seated show because they only have some much in which to rock out.
• The Rock Chick from a 1980s Video: Bless the 1980s rock video. Most of these videos have very formulaic plots, and almost all of them involve one "hot" girl dancing for extended shots, usually on the hood of a car. Enjoy Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again" if you've never experienced this type of video. Big hair, big boobs, either super tight clothes or flow-y dresses, high heels; these are the signs of this type of concert dancer. These ladies have mastered the fine art of being able to dance to anything. They're why metal fans complained about Def Leppard and bands like Whitesnake, but continued to attend concerts. Dudes were conflicted about how much a band could truly rock if girls could dance to the music (said in a way more colorful way). If you ever need a good pep talk, say one of two things to yourself: "Have the confidence of an average white male" or "Own a room like a 1980s Rock Chick." Both are surprisingly helpful.
• The Headbangers: My brother often leaves his swaying behind and headbangs during very specific concerts or songs. Take him to a Metallica show and it's headbanging all the way. Metal bands tend to have the most dedicated of headbangers; the fast-paced, heavy music is designed for this type of enjoyment. It takes no actual skill, but a strong attachment to the rhythm and feeling of the music. Headbangers have a gentler cousin, who resembles a bobble head figure, and is usually present at rock shows. Do long-time headbangers have neck problems?
• The Music Feeler: At every show I attend, there is at least one person who is feeling the music so deeply that their body takes over and does whatever it wants to do. It could be a combination of every other dancing type listed or it could be something completely unique. At the Violent Femmes/Echo & the Bunnymen show on Wednesday at the Anthem, there was a couple in front of me that both were part of this category. During the Echo set, they had a ton of real estate to themselves and were just feeling it. For the woman, it manifested as a lot of twirling and intense swaying. She was also into the moves of a nearby 80s Rock Chick. The guy was a combo of a swayer, a twirler (yes, dudes can twirl), and a shuffler. Some people go to church, others go to rock shows.
• The Self-Contained Mosh Pit Guy: A mosh pit is a thing of beauty when viewed from several hundred feet above or from the way, way back of a club. I've been to many shows in my life that involved pits, but have always stayed outside of them for many reasons. The pit can be a violent place, intentionally or unintentionally, and is a culture unto itself. This is not about the mosh pit; it's about that one guy (and it's usually a guy) who creates his own one person pit right next to you during a show. This is a guy who employs his pit moves, like shuffling (which can be a thing in the pit), body slamming, and jumping for himself only. I feel some of these guys want you to join in and others just don't know any other way to express themselves physically when attending a show so they default to the pit behavior they're used to. My reaction to a self-contained mosh pit guy is to shove him back and protect my space at all costs. Elbows out, friends.
• The "Dance With Me" Couple: This has the potential to be the saddest dancing at a show or will end up being something out of an amateur porn film you don't want to watch. The woman in the couple always wants to dance. She tries everything to get the guy to dance with her. In the sad version, he completely ignores her or continually pushes her off, and continues his swaying (he's usually a swayer) until she gets so mad she storms off. Or they get into a fight in the middle of the show. In the porn-lite version, he gets into it and the girl becomes an 80s Rock Chick and he's the car hood. Neither is particularly fun to witness.

I want everyone to enjoy every show they go to. Every time I watch a person dance at a concert, I know in my heart that they are living their best possible lives at that exact moment. Sometimes the behavior awakens my inner Old Lady Concertgoer and I have to work hard at getting her to calm it down. Other times, it makes me joyful and warms a part of my cynical heart. My rule is in place to help us all be the best rock and roll citizens we can be. If we can all work together to be good rock and roll citizens, there's nothing we can't do.

Coming this August: Beer festival shenanigans at a prison, we discuss counter-protesting and the fact that no one should have to have "confronted a Nazi" as something they need to do in 2018, and a random Lazy Movie Weekend will appear. 

Song of the Summer

One of the best things I did for myself during the 2016 election, other than work for a candidate who didn't sell us out to Russia, was to start following a bot account on Twitter called "africa by toto bot." It's exactly what it sounds like: the bot tweets one lyric at a time from the 1982 song "Africa" by the band Toto. I don't know if it's the context of seeing a tweet from this account come up in between tweets from the many politicians, journalists, and activists I follow, or if it's the fact that I love this song, but every tweet makes my day a little brighter and funnier. Sometimes, bot accounts are pure and lovely and not responsible for subverting democracy.

"Africa" was the first and only number one hit for the band Toto. It's a fairly straightforward pop love song, with lots of 80s-tastic synthesizers and a drum beat that I'm sure the band or some producer thought was very "African" sounding, but isn't really. The original video, which you can watch here, includes a very thin plot, which I believe takes place in a library in an unnamed African country (probably Tanzania, given the two geographical references in the song), also includes a lot of closed eye singing, some masks, one of the drummers wearing a blouse, and a search for a book. It ends with a fire and the lead singer sitting on top of a stack of books in a very Jeff Goldblum in Jurassic Park (the first one) pose, but in a completely unappealing way.

From what I've read about the song, which is a surprising amount, David Paich wrote the song about the continent of Africa. He watched a lot of documentaries about Africa in the period leading up to writing the song, but had never visited and had gone to Catholic school as a child, remembering missionaries going to Africa. So the song is about love of a place and of memory. I can totally get behind this idea. The song was on the album Toto IV. That album and the song "Rosanna" from the album both won Grammys in 1983.

I have loved this song since I first heard it when I was a child. It falls into that category of songs that were on the radio a lot that I will never stop loving. Other songs included in this category are "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)", "More Than a Feeling", and "Low Rider." It's poppy and peppy. There's a marimba! One of my absolute favorite things about this song is the use of "Kilimanjaro" and "Serengeti" in the lyrics. Both words have a lot of syllables and limited rhyming words. I've always been impressed by the band's ability to make the words work in the song. The inclusion of both is the only geographic clue we get in the song; Mt. Kilimanjaro is in Tanzania and the Serengeti National Park is primarily in Tanzania (some of it is in Kenya). As a kid, it was a fun fact to look up. As an adult, it's a funny thing in a random pop song from 1982.

What's fascinating to me is that a little cover of this song by a 90s alt band has become a song of the summer. Not an official song of the summer, but one in my mind. If you haven't listened to Weezer's cover of "Africa," take a few minutes and watch their performance on Jimmy Kimmel's summer concert series. One of the members of Toto even makes an appearance.

The whole thing started with a 14 year old girl named Mary. She started a Twitter account directed at the band and used it to try to convince them to do a cover of the song. Weezer does a far amount of covers, so it's not unusual for them to add a new song or two into the mix. They teased fans with a cover of "Rosanna" first, eventually releasing "Africa" in May. Of course, the Internet was designed for this event. The song is playing in heavy rotation on the radio. NPR wrote a story about the song and people's uncomfortable relationship with Weezer and with the song. My favorite line in this story, "Weezer, the Los Angeles-based quartet that emerged in the 1990s with bemusingly catchy hits like "Buddy Holly," is one of a handful of pop-punk bands that, like Wooderson in the movie Dazed and Confused, keep getting older while a good chunk of their fan base stays the same age — 14."

I was 13 or 14 when I heard my firs Weezer song. It was "Buddy Holly" and I remember the seeing the video for the first time on MTV. I was obsessed with the chorus:

Woo-ee-ooh, I look just like Buddy Holly
Oh-oh, and you're Mary Tyler Moore
I don't care what they say about us anyway
I don't care 'bout that 

Yes, I am so very Mary Tyler Moore. Thank you, Rivers Cuomo for getting it. The Blue Album, which included "Buddy Holly," will always be my favorite Weezer album. "In the garage" and "Say it ain't so," also on that album, are two of my favorite Weezer songs. I lived in Hawaii when "Island in the Sun" was released and loved driving around Oahu with my windows down, blasting the song. I like to listen to "Everybody Get Dangerous" in the middle of a workout. I'm not a huge fan of their newest album, but that's okay. Rivers Cuomo isn't always my favorite person, but again, that's okay. 

 I've never seen Weezer live, but that has now been remedied. Weezer is on tour this summer and I went to the show last night. They happen to be touring with the Pixies, one of my favorite bands of all time. It's been almost ten years since I last saw the Pixies, so I was excited about this concert. Unlike my experience at the Indigo Girls concert, I entered this concert experience with expectations:

• Enjoy Paz Lenchantin as the bassist for the Pixies. Yes, I grew up on the band with Kim Deal, but Paz is an amazing bassist.
• Songs I need the Pixies to play: "Gigantic", "Hey", "Wave of Mutilation" (hopefully the slower version), "Indy Cindy", "Here Comes Your Man", "Planet of Sound", "Letter to Memphis", and "Velouria." 
• Songs I need Weezer to play: "Buddy Holly", "In the garage", "Island in the Sun", "Say it ain't so", "Hash Pipe", "Everybody Get Dangerous," and "Holiday." (I'm a Blue Album fan if that wasn't obvious.)
• "Africa" must be played. 

I was not disappointed. Although the Pixies didn't play all the songs I wanted to hear, most surprisingly no "Here Comes Your Man," they played a great set that included a good mix of newer songs and classics. Paz is a great addition to the band; I'll always be a Kim Deal fan, but she made her choice and the band continues on. 

Weezer puts on a great show. Yes, their fans stay the same age, on many different levels, but who cares? It's a great rock show. They didn't play all the songs I wanted to hear, but they played songs I didn't know I needed, like an acoustic version of a-ha's "Take on Me" and a mash-up of the Turtles' "Happy Together" and Green Day's "Longview". Who knew that would work? The best moment of the night was Rivers Cuomo in a boat in the middle of the audience doing a great acoustic version of "Island in the Sun" and looking super ridiculous in a captain's hat. This the kind of show that reminds me that rock and roll doesn't always have to be so serious or take itself so seriously. Sometimes, it's a dude in a hat in a boat singing an a-ha song and sometimes it's a band singing an almost note for note version of a classic 80s pop song because a fan asked them to do so.

And yes, they played "Africa." It was as glorious live as I thought it would be. I'm trying not to take photos of concerts anymore and my video didn't come out great so enjoy this guy's video from last night. The sing-a-long moment is on my list of favorite concert moments. Tell me Brian Bell doesn't look like one of the members of Toto during this song. It's the tucked in shirt.

Just in case Weezer's cover isn't your thing, enjoy this version of "Africa" created in Mario Paint (apparently Mario Paint videos were a thing in 2010.).

Concert Buddy Chronicles: Closer I Am to Fine

Old Lady Concert Rule #12 (probably): Always have a concert buddy.

Concert buddies are an important part of the concert going experience. Even for me, a person who enjoys doing things by myself, concerts don't fall into the group of activities that are more enjoyable alone. I would add sporting events, protests, holiday parties (particularly for work), and weddings to the list of things you should never attend alone. The safety factor is one part of this, but honestly, concerts are just more fun when you go with other people.

I've attended a few concerts by myself over the years and it's not nearly as much fun as it should be. Most of the shows have been at places like Ram's Head in Baltimore and the 9:30 Club in DC, which are both standing room only venues. Take the fun factor out of the mix for a second, logistical items like getting a drink or going to the bathroom are much more difficult because there's no one to protect your space. Despite my height, I prefer to stand at the back of the club, so it's a little better for me, but it's still annoying. If you don't make friends with your neighbors, you're out of luck. I lucked out at the last show I saw alone and made friends with the two people standing next to me. They protected my space and I did the same for them. We were all wearing the same shoes, which is why we started talking. Granted, it was a Green Day show so the odds were in my favor that at least half of the crowd would be wearing the same shoes as me, but they could have been jerks and then I would have been out of luck.

That's been my experience at most of the other shows I've gone to by myself. People around me weren't the most pleasant or just kept to themselves, which is 100% acceptable. At a Patti Smith show a few years ago, I got into an uncomfortable discussion with two drunk, older dudes next to me about how everything was better before I was born. They had seen her in the 70s in New York and it was so much better (obviously) and I was so unlucky to be born when I was born. I told them to stop talking like a bunch of elitist concert-going assholes. They were one step away from telling kids to get off their lawns and turn that racket down. This could have gone very bad, very quickly, but instead they apologized and offered to protect my space if I wanted to go get a drink or anything. They were polite to me the rest of the night. I could tell they were also annoyed; such is the delicate ego of a 70s "punk" dude.

These experiences aside, going to concerts with friends is funner. There's no other word to describe it. From the waiting to get in or in the parking lot to the people watching to the actual concert itself, the experience is better with other people. Having a concert buddy is actually how the Old Lady Concert rules became a thing; I started complaining about people standing at a seated show, which led to me discussing my old lady tendencies with Anita. The rules were born and we must abide.

My older brother, Scott, and my friend Anita are my concert buddies. I could add my dad here as well since he did take me to my first two concerts, but I'm not sure that counts. Both Scott and Anita are ideal concert buddies: we like a lot of the same music, but also like different musicians so we all get exposed to new bands because of the other person. I took both of them to their first Decemberists concert (different shows) and Anita went with me to Wilco last summer. Scott and I tend to go to metal shows or we travel for shows. He's the kind of concert buddy that replies, "Memphis" when you ask where he wants to see the Foo Fighters.

This brings me to the Indigo Girls.

I have to admit something about my life as a 90s girl: I only know three songs by the Indigo Girls. Not only do I only know three songs by the band, they're the songs that everyone knows, "Closer to Fine", "Galileo", and "Elizabeth." I'm sure I know other songs by the band, but I couldn't name them if you paid me a million dollars. They're just not my jam. However, it doesn't mean I don't appreciate their music or their talent. Amy and Emily are amazingly talented and also happen to be exceptionally cool human beings. They're activists and have been successful both as a duo and as solo artists. They were also hugely popular at a time in my life where so much good music was coming out. As I always tell people, you can't listen to everything. While I never disliked them, I was more into Tori Amos, Liz Phair, Riot Grrrl bands like Bikini Kill and Sleater-Kinney, grunge bands, Green Day, and hard rock from the 70s. I listened to R.E.M. and 10,000 Maniacs and Fiona Apple. I was "discovering" Big Star and the Velvet Underground and enjoying a bunch of really terrible one-hit wonder songs from bands whose names I can't remember. The 1990s were an amazing time for music.

Anita, on the other hand, is a huge Indigo Girls fan. She's now seen them in concert 15 times. She knows all the words and all the guitars. So when she asked me to go with her to the concert (which was last week), of course I said yes. That's what concert buddies do. I'm also never going to say no to going to Wolf Trap, except for live theatre and the Grease sing-a-long. Trust me on both of these things.

It was a great show. The opening act, The War and Treaty, were super fun. They reminded me of a few bands I used to go see in New Orleans. They're a husband and wife duo and are maybe the most adorable human beings I've ever seen on stage together. They came out later to join the Indigo Girls for "Closer to Fine," which closed out the encore. The Indigo Girls tour with a band sometimes; this is not that tour. It's the two of them and a violinist (Lyris Hung). They switch out guitars for almost every song. Anita told me it's a system the band has had in place for years. She told that there was a time in her Indigo Girls fan life where she could have told me the song they were about to play because of the guitars. That is a true fan.

What I enjoyed most about this concert was that I had no expectations at all. Normally when I go see a show, I stress about whether the band is going to play my favorite song or if they're going to be play too many new songs. With few exceptions, new songs aren't always the best songs (I'm looking at you, Bob Dylan on the Modern Times tour). Concert anticipation is both a blessing and a curse; it can often lead to a horrible let down. I didn't have to experience that at all with the Indigo Girls. I figured they'd play "Closer to Fine" and "Galileo." I wasn't going to be disappointed if they didn't play "Elizabeth" or if they only played "Closer to Fine." My stake in the concert game was low, and it was amazing. I spent time watching Anita and other fans experience their favorite (or a favorite) band. It was nice to just listen to very talented musicians do their thing and fans enjoying themselves.

If that's not a perfect summer concert, I don't know what is.

 Next time on the Island: Another concert, the song of the summer, and why sometimes you need to follow really innocent accounts on Twitter.

Set list photo

Baseball cats

Back in August 2017, a kitten ran onto the field at Busch Stadium during a game between the St. Louis Cardinals and the Kansas City Royals. The cat ran onto the field right before Yadier Molina hit a grand slam, and a poor member of the grounds crew ran out to get the cat. You can watch him get clawed here. The Cardinals nicknamed the cat Rally Cat, and were interested in adopting him/her as a clubhouse pet. They lost the custody war with a local humane society, Feral Cat Outreach, who felt the team was more interested in publicity than the welfare of the animal. I don't know if the Cardinals had the cat's best interest at heart, but I do know were I a resident of the greater St. Louis area, I would go to a heck of a lot more baseball games if I knew the team has a clubhouse cat. It's the sort of thing cat people like. I mean, Rally Cat did his own bobblehead, so it can't be all that bad.

In addition to running his way into the hearts of baseball fans, Rally Cat's appearance at the game led to the creation of Rally Cat Appreciation Day and many other baseball stadiums have followed suit, holding their own themed nights for cat lovers. I attended my first "Caturday" event at Nationals Park yesterday. While I have some feedback for the event planners, overall, I enjoyed my first Caturday. As a cat mom, I often feel left out of public celebrations for my pet, so I appreciate an opportunity to come to a game, hang out with some cat/baseball fans, and enjoy cats puns alongside of a baseball game. It makes me feel validated as a pet owner. It has also led me to discover a community of cat lovers I had no idea existed.

This is the look I got when I arrived home last night. Full of #catitude.

When I first started working at my new job last summer, I spotted a coffee mug in one of the kitchens.

I didn't meet the owner of the mug for another few weeks.We met one morning in the kitchen as we both prepared our morning coffees. She's a lovely human and the proud cat mom of three cats. She told me about them and gave me a baseball card of one of her cats...because her cats are rally cats. She has the most delightful Twitter account featuring her rally cats. It's through this account that I discovered an entire world of rally cat Twitter accounts. I had no idea this was a thing, but it seems like every MLB team has at least one fan who has devoted an account to his/her cat and favorite team. I truly believe this is why Twitter was invented.

I love many things about the rally cat community (and it is a community). They take care of one another and seem genuinely supportive of one another. One of the cats is sick and the parent is trying to raise money for care, so all of the rally cat accounts rallied to spread the message. The accounts are funny and creative, from cat-astic puns to fun promos for teams. Some of the cats will even let their owners put them in team clothing, something that Keely is never going to be into. The cats provide excellent color commentary on games. Honestly, I'd rather listen to a cat "tell" me what's happening than some of the broadcasters who call baseball games professionally. Of course, I follow my co-worker's account on Twitter and whenever she interacts with other rally cat accounts (I don't know that they actually describe themselves as such, but it's easier for my purposes here), it makes my heart happy. It's delightful.

Now some of the accounts are political too. Not overtly so, but the cats lean way more to the left than not and have taken some pretty firm stands on topics like gun control, immigration, and women's healthcare. Not all of these accounts are run by women, but they're all pretty unified in their dislike of the 45 and their desire for us to not be a dumpster fire country. I came for the cats and I stayed for the politics.

I didn't get to see my co-worker at Caturday, although I know she was there (she posted in the Facebook group and on Twitter). This might be one of the fails of Caturday: it didn't really feel like an event as much as a marketing moment. Yes, we got a Catitude t-shirt and were treated to some delightful cat puns throughout the evening, but other than that, it felt flat. Our seats were in the section under the scoreboard, so any fun thing that was posted, we didn't get to see, including the cat photos that were running before the game. I submitted a photo of Keely, but I have no idea if it was used. The Presidents Race featured a cat (Teddy had a lot of pets) and that was sort of fun. I wanted more. This is an organization that allowed Bryce Harper to come up with Rat Pack Night as a theme (which was terrible; I was at the first one) and does a great Star Wars Day, so I expected more.

Money from each of the special tickets benefits the Humane Rescue Alliance, a local rescue group supported by the Nationals. They were on hand yesterday for the event; we didn't go into their mobile adoption van. It looked busy, so I hope some lucky cats and kittens got adopted yesterday too. The Nats won the game 18-4; Mark Reynolds had 10 RBI in the game (tying Anthony Rendon's record from last season) and Trea Turner had eight. It was a good night for baseball.

Here's the photo of Keely I submitted. He's doing his best Derek Zoolander. I don't know if he can turn left.

Isn't he handsome? You know he was on the scoreboard because of his handsomeness. Hopefully, the Nats have another Caturday and I'll submit another photo of him and actually get to see it on the scoreboard. Until then, I'll be over here enjoying the rally cat community and trying to get Keely to turn left.