Re: Jethro Tull
there have been many wonderful extended entries on tull in this thread. for days, i've been trying to think of a way to do justice to a band so very near and dear to my heart of hearts, my soul of souls, my cod of codpieces, my fan of phantom ovaries, etc etc... and i just can't do it. it is too gargantuan of a thing. it boggles my already o'er-boggled brainpan.
upshot: this must be done in small, manageable bits.
bit #1:
i have seen tull live more than any other act, in the double digits, save one... the moody blues. (the moodies will move ahead by one next month, but as usual, that lead will not last for long. a neck-and-neck race, speedin down the decades.)
with that in mind, i give you **my fave concert ever, in the long history of my concertdom**...
tull, in new orleans, at my favorite theatre, the saenger (pre-katrina, of course, snifffffff)... one of those old victorian style theatres with the velvet seats, marble statues, rich tapestry curtains, and lit constellations moving across the ceiling. a perfect place to see a band like tull, as you might imagine.
what made this concert so special, you ask? (of course, you do.) welllll, i had just had wrist surgery that very day. i was under strict orders to fester around in bed, take happy pills, have someone switch around my ice pack, and drool at my tv screen. um, yeah. surrrrrrrrre. lil did i know, ian had apparently cracked his leg at rio or some such, so he's in a fucquin wheelchair on stage, zippin himself around like a maniac, playin his flute with one hand, yankin a wheel with the other, just goin nuts and soundin fantastic.
i'm in my seat (well, kinda in, kinda out), ecstatic, with my ice pack strapped to my slinged-up arm, leakin water alllll over the poor dude next to me. he was a class act, that dude, genial as could be, didn't seem to mind at all, smiling the whole time. in fact, i think he bought me a few beers. my memory's a bit hazy. maybe he just liked the shirt i was wearing. why ask why? it was all good.
the point. i had one. um. this: somehow, i felt as though ian and i~~in some weird, fucqued up, cosmically-cast-bound, spastic yet happified way~~were connected. we were one.
ok, so i was really plastered. but the feeling was there, so it still means something to me, even if it's based entirely on exactly nuthin that's empirically really real.
i think i kinda prefer my reality to be unreal anyway.
p.s. did i say manageable bits? be glad yer not seeing my unmanageable bits. ahem.