The Most Surreal Night Ever

In which I scramble to find a ride to an unexpectedly unusual concert, and then an astonishing turn of events takes place.

Friday night was another Buster Blue show. I've mentioned them before, and I'll take the time again to speak to what fantastically nice people they are, and how great their music is. They are, and it is. Go buy some.


I went to their show and afterward they mentioned they'd be in Tahoe on Sunday, performing after Diego's Umbrella and March Fourth. I promptly forgot about it until a few hours before the show was to start on Sunday. I thought I'd check out what the two bands were all about, and if you go to the websites I've handily linked up there, you'll see why I absolutely had to find a way to Tahoe.


As you may recall, my last drive to Tahoe was an unmitigated disaster.


I called a friend who had mentioned she wanted to go.


Nope.


Called another friend who had said he would go. Bribed him with pitas and cookies and all manner of delicious foodstuffs.


Nada.


At this point I strongly considered taking my car and throwing caution to the wind. The vision of my father murdering me through the phone in the eventuality of the car dying again gave me enough pause to consider begging a classmate to take me.


Nothing.


Finally, I wheedled the phone number of another friend, Nick, out of the second ride refusal, and called him.

"Oh, it's in Tahoe? Nah, I don't want to drive that far."


Even the aforementioned pitas and cookies would not sway him. Despair, and the conviction to attempt taking the car rose again. Five minutes later, I received a phone call from Nick.


"Y'know what? Fuck it, let's go!"


I literally jumped for joy.


The concert was ridiculously amazing. Diego's Umbrella was, as promised, gypsy pirate polka. March Fourth was probably the most insane thing I've ever seen - half of the band on stilts, all manner of circus-inspired marching garb, music that was a fantastic combination of jazz, funk, and punchy brass.


Oh yeah, and there was a crowd surfing stilt walker.


The next night I got a call from Bryan inviting Benvolio and me over to their house to play . . . with some of the guys from March Fourth.





In case you were curious, the expression on my face during all of that is supposed to convey a sense of concentration coupled with "Holy shit, is this really happening?"


Maybe more than a hint of "Billy, I don't know what you want me to do on camera."


And here's a hastily thrown together and oddly out of tune version of what I was playing.





It sounds wimpy here mostly because I'm trying to play quietly - don't want to annoy the roommate too much.