A Dangerous Family
Hey Everyone
I just had an interesting weekend and I’d like to tell you all about it, but first:
I am an excellent example of Newton’s first law of motion. It states that an object at rest will remain at rest. Inertia. There’s actually more to it than that, but it’s all I need to make my point. Simply put, when I’m not working, I don’t go out much.
“Man Who Move Little From Couch, Look Like Lunch To Housecat”
A quote from Irish-Chinese philosopher Foo O’Shit.
Ordinarily, the last thing I’d want to do is drive downtown during Friday afternoon rush hour, but it was Jeanette’s birthday, and she wanted to go to a concert at the Danforth Music Hall.
I checked the internet for information about the band she wanted to see. They’re a Canadian act called Whitehorse. The music they write and play is classified as folk-rock and they consist mainly of a married couple, Melissa McClelland and Luke Doucet, who are both established singer-songwriters on their own. They sometimes perform as a duo, sometimes as a full band with drums, bass, and keyboards.
I didn’t quite know what to expect, but it sounded interesting. I listened to a couple of their MP3s on YouTube. Both tunes were considerably more rock than folk and were very catchy.
The show started at 8 pm, but we left my place at 5:15. This was prudent considering the state of Toronto area roads and highways, which are getting more and more congested with the booming rise in population.
As expected, the QEW (the most god-forsaken, soul-sucking stretch of asphalt in Canada) and the Gardiner Expressway were packed solid, but we talked the whole way, and the time passed quickly. We found a parking spot right on Danforth, almost in front of the theatre. We had an hour to spare, so we visited a nearby restaurant for pizza and french fries.
Because Jeanette was feeling a little strange about the digital tickets she had purchased a few weeks before, we headed over to the theatre early at 7:30.
We couldn’t believe it. There were serious security checks on the way in. It was like getting on an airplane. We had to empty our pockets, take off our coats, and then we were frisked with metal detectors.
“This is ridiculous,” I said in a clearly irritated tone of voice. “This is adult contemporary folk-rock, not urban gangsta rap.”
I was ignored by the smarmy, self-important, wanna be cops. Most of you who are regular readers of this blog know that security people generally just piss me off. There were four of them acting very official.
“I have a question. What are you looking for? A lethal hair comb, poison lip gloss, expired library card…..” I taunted.
“Sharp objects, guns, and knives. Have you any more questions?” one of them retorted in a ‘don’t mess with us’ manner.
It was incredibly rude. I’ve been to all the concert venues in Toronto (except this one), and I’ve never seen security like this.
MOO
Next, we were herded like cows through the front doors and asked for our tickets. Jeanette showed the digital receipts on her phone. She was told to go back outside to the box office and have them verified. I waited inside to avoid a second frisk. Ten minutes later, after going through the full security check again, my poor, flustered girlfriend was back with some interesting news. She had been scammed. The website she purchased the tickets from was phony. She had to buy two more tickets.
I’m happy to report that the evening improved somewhat from there.
Whitehorse
After a fifteen-minute delay in getting the audience in and seated, which was surely caused by the unnecessary security, Whitehorse came onstage. It was a full band. I didn’t catch the name of the drummer, but the guitar/bass player was Luke’s daughter Chloe, and the keyboard player was Jimmy, the son of Luke and Melissa, who couldn’t have been more than eleven years old.
A family act. This made all that security crap even weirder.
They were great. They come across as very likeable people. Their songs are well constructed, uplifting, and seemed to be performed flawlessly. I can’t really describe their music. You’ll have to look them up yourselves on YouTube or Spotify.
It Aint Over ‘Til The Fat Lady Stops Yelling
Other than the BS at the beginning, our enjoyment of the show itself was complete, with one exception. A big blond Brunhilda who, even without a horned helmet, could have fit right into a Wagner opera, was seated two down from Jeanette. She stood up and did whooping shrieks at the beginning, middle, and end of every tune. Louder than an air raid siren. Louder than my neighbour’s leaf blower. Louder than a bright pink tie with an orange blazer. I had to cover my right ear.
If that lady didn’t have laryngitis the next morning, then there’s no justice in the universe.
RATINGS
Show Without hesitation ✩✩✩✩✩
Danforth Music Hall One star ✩
And that’s just for the sound and sight-lines. They lose four stars for hiring the Gestapo to search and herd their customers like we were suspicious Ninja cows.
The Weekend Continues
On Sunday, boogie at the beach. A jam session extraordinaire described in my next post.