Last night, the Boyfriend and I got our music mojo back with one of the final shows at the Gibson Amphitheater.
We’ve been recovering from a very tough month. The Boyfriend from his physical injuries after having his face broken and me from the impact of the aftermath. Through it all we’ve managed to stick it out. Be tough together. Fight back and be solid – all while raising a Monkey. Life takes no breaks for the rest of the world’s garbage. Am I right?
A few months ago, The Boyfriend purchased tix to a bunch of concerts. A few the I wasn’t terribly amped about. Being a reformed groupie bandit, I often have little to no desire to see bands that I’ve already seen a bajillion times already. But, The Boyfriend insists. He buys the tix. It goes on the calendar. So we go. Last night I was less than thrilled to go out. We’d spent all day with family and running around and cleaning that I just wanted to lay on the couch wearing my new dress. But, alas I could not. We hopped in Betty Tres and made our way down the Valley and out of our Valley. I adore the Gibson, or as I remember it the Universal Amphitheater where I saw so many amazeballs bands when I was a teen and then a young lady. Discovering the world of music and all the variations of stunning that growing up moments from Hollywood could offer.
The night was crisp. The opening acts where new to me. And then it began…
Queens of the Stone Age. Brilliant. Epic. Amazing show from our seats. Well, for the few songs we heard. Then something truly surprising.
Thanks to a very amazing friend, we ended up backstage. It has been years since I have been on this side of the awesome. I love it back there. Watching all the action. Like a perfectly oiled machine. Rock happens. It’s genius. Last night was just the release that this Mama needed. Loud music. Good friends. And then a few very well-known Rock Gods at the after party only feet away from my being – giddy doesn’t even cover it. I did take a piece of the action with me…in the form of a salsa drip on my Chucks. Holla! Mama knows how to party!
After the whole thing was said and done, The Boyfriend and I partook of an old tradition of mine. Late night grubbage at the 24-Hour Bob’s Big Boy in my hometown. Home at 3.30am. I’m too old for this junk. But damn it was a wicked fantastic night.