Craigslist has a personals section that allows people who may not know each other to post messages with hopes the other person might see it. Today, I have some messages for some of the people at Waterfest last night.
To the people who rave about how great Three Beers 'til Dubuque is: GET YOUR HEARING CHECKED!!!!! That had to be the worst versions of Brown Eyed Girl and Come On Eileen that I have ever heard in my life.
To the person who decided to have Stella Artois and Rolling Rock on tap now at the Leach: Thank you for saving me from beer hell. Shows at the Leach just haven't been the same since I couldn't get Leinie's after the switch to Budweiser products a few years back.
To the people stuck behind me during the Gin Blossoms set: Sorry you couldn't see much. I've been 6'3" since I was 19-years old--and I don't feel like slouching all night. Believe it or not, I have been to a few concerts where the only guy taller than me in the entire arena was right in front of me.
To the two old guys who threatened to fight each other right in front of the stage: Settle down before you hurt yourselves. Yes the "Cocky Guy" did pull the hair of the other guy's wife--but if you two had actually squared off it would have been hilarious to watch.
To the "Cocky Guy" from the item above: Please save the make out session with your wife for someplace less public. I enjoy the occasional romantic public display of affection--but the way you two were going at it was just disgusting. Next time, just put a Gin Blossoms CD in the stereo and stay in your bedroom.
To the people who feel the need to film every concert they go to on their cell phone cameras: I hope you enjoy the jerky action and mono mp3 audio--I'm sure it will be just like you were there when you watch that back on the one-inch screen. Can't we just have memories of experiences anymore instead of having everything on digital media?
To the middle-aged blonde woman dressed like a teenager in the first row along the stage: Give up the "Rock Groupie" dream. I didn't enjoy seeing your "junk" on display--and I'm guessing the guys on stage weren't digging it either. At least she kept her stuff covered up--unlike the woman right in front of the stage a few years ago who enjoyed a couple of Bodeans songs with one of her breasts hanging out of her tank top.
And people wonder why I enjoy going out less every year.