(pre-dating some of these entries so they make more sense chronologically...these haven't been sitting here for a week, faithful readers...)
The first of two nights at FleetBoston Pavilion for this trio. For some reason, they decided to give Guster the hometown closing slot on THURSDAY instead of the Sunday show. Why not? I don't know. Or as a guy I went to college with would then bellow, "BECAUSE THAT WOULD MAKE SENSE!" (Thank you, Nick Taranko, wherever you are...)
So. One of the realities of stealth taping is the whole stealth thing. I.e., you have an obligation to somehow hide everything from the roving eyes of ushers and roaming hands of security at the door. Being male makes this a bit harder, as we have no bags to stash stuff in, no boobs to distract the male door security, and *ahem* considerably less room in the basement for storage purposes. In New Hampshire I was pretty sure we'd be ok so I spread the wealth among the various females that accompanied me to the show (thanks, ladies). But in Boston, not being a no-name town on the edge of Lake Winnepesaukee, I had a hunch that security would be on higher alert, due to the everpresent danger of a scuffle between the Bloods and the Crips, or the Jets and the Sharks, or what have you. ESPECIALLY at the wuss-rok extravaganza that this show happened to be.
At any rate, in my paranoia, I made the decision to put my gear in the basement and pawn off the smaller goods instead. The only problem is, during an earthquake, the basement...hmm. This extended metaphor doesn't work. Let's just say that during the lengthy perambulation from the parking garage to the venue, there was some migratory behavior in the Southern hemisphere which ended up potentially making me look like I was OVERJOYED to be attending this particular show. Fortunately, I had had the forethought to dress as innocuously as possible (khakis and a polo shirt) to make it seem like I couldn't possibly be doing anything so untoward as smuggling contraband into the show, and when the security member saw that my hands were empty, he waved me through and instead concentrated on finding incendiary devices in the postage-stamp-sized purses of my cohorts. Once we got in and found our seats, I was left to my own devices, only to find that a) we were early and the lack of fans afforded me very little coverage to, er, unload, and b) the unloading procedure was complicated by the fact that the deck had somehow gotten lodged between the two undergarments I had on (what, you think the deck was...? oh, ew. really...) and wasn't coming out without a fight. YOU try removing a Walkman from your undercarriage while sitting in the middle of an empty row of seats. Eventually the row filled up, I was able to extricate my electronics, hook up and roll.
The show itself was pretty good, and the crowd was the loudest I'd heard since the Guster DVD shoot last year. Ben Folds was apparently sick at the last show we saw, but was feeling much better for this one, as evidenced by the multiple sit-ins - Ben and Rufus did the same "Careless Whisper" together (Ben's set was a bit slower and draggier than in NH despite his improved health, though), Guster sat in on a couple different songs with Ben, Rufus came back out for "Come Downstairs & Say Hello" with Guster, and then Ben joined Guster at the end for an upbeat "All The Way Up To Heaven" and an eardrum-endangering "Bridge Over Trouble Water", featuring Brian on "vocals". Rufus still fails to convince me, though...he got more comprehensible as the shows progressed, but his style just didn't mesh as well with the other two bands.
The ride home was irritating, to say the least - the major construction still going on in the Central Artery area made a 30-minute trip into an hour-plus trip, plus it was POURING the entire time, and people feel the need to make left-hand turns from the right lane, right-hand turns from the left lane, merge without signaling, and all of the other things that make driving in Boston so wonderful. Note to self: avoid parking garage beyond FleetBoston Pavilion in the future to make the getaway easier...
You have me cracking up here at work.