the workers are going home
We saw Weezer last night. I didn't expect this to happen, but halfway through the day the tickets materialized and we went. Rivers Cuomo was wearing glasses and a striped shirt that made him look like Waldo, as in Where's Waldo? All he needed was a cap and a big stack of books. He seemed a little unsure about the whole situation; he didn't really move while he was singing. I wonder what it's like to be in your thirties and still performing "The Sweater Song." As Kristofer points out, the band has to simultaneously cater to the teenage fans and to the older people like us who are there for nostalgia/camp. Tricky.
The scary thing about the show was how old it made me feel. People started crushing inward as soon as the band came on, and we freaked out and spent most of "My Name Is Jonas" pushing away from the stage. The audience was full of high school kids bopping up and down. The show ended before midnight with strobe lights and confetti, and our asses hurt from standing, and we felt already tired and goddamn old.
I'm leaving the city at 11:30 tonight, getting into Chicago at 5:30 a.m. And on from there.
