Yet More Crowded House Shows

I didn't take the picture to the right, but I certainly did attend both Crowded House shows here in LA recently.  (This after attending four last year.)

Friday night, the first of two nights, I just went by myself.  There's only so much CH Ellen can take, after all.  (She likes them but will occasionally comment "all their songs are so sad."  Mentally I reply, "exactly!")  The lovely, somewhat restored Orpheum theater in downtown LA played host to the band, so I dragged myself down there in the Prius, wondering if I should score some crack since I don't get down there very often.  Instead, I had a $9 margarita at the bar next door to the theater, then ordered a bacon cheeseburger at the little greasy spoon window-service establishment adjacent to the parking lot. They have a little tiny linoleum counter bolted to the outside of their closet-sized cooking area, with ugly stools.  I sat there, basically in the parking lot, munching on my burger, watching the BMWs enter, perfectly happy.  But perhaps that's the margarita talking.

Then I went into the show, Row J.  Not too shabby.  It turned out there were two "singles" on either side of me.  One was a 20-something Brit who was in LA on business and took advantage of the coincident CH tour schedule.  I liked him until during the show he several times called somebody on his cel phone, yelled something, then held up the phone so they could hear a distorted, unrecognizable bit of live music.  On the other side of me was a 50-ish woman who came with her sister, but they couldn't get tickets together, so her sister got the second-row seat.  They had taken the subway and misjudged how far away the subway stop was from the theater (about ten blocks), and were a little nervous about the walk back late at night.  I told her I thought she'd be fine as I mentally made a note of her appearance for comparison with crime scene photos in the paper tomorrow.

Then the band came on, which was wonderful of course.  I won't blather on and on about it.  Crowded House shows are always different, they like to mix up the set list, take requests, banter with each other, play old obscure songs, make up songs on the spot.  That, and beautiful ballads like "Fall at Your Feet" and "Don't Dream it's Over."

After the show, the lady next to me tapped my shoulder and said "nice to meet you."  On the spur of the moment, I turned and asked her if she and her sister wanted a ride to the subway stop.  The look on her face said, "I suddenly realize you could be a registered sex offender" and she declined.  Hey I didn't really want to do it anyway!

The next night Ellen and I went to a fun Irish pub (reliving our last year's trip) downtown before the show.  I had "bangers and mash" which is Irish for bland sausage with brown gravy and mashed potatoes.  This being LA, they were garlic mashed potatoes.

The show Saturday night was even better than Friday.  Crowded House -- c'est bon!