day 1 - Thursday - Frank stood me up
day 2 - Friday - Frank snores
day 3 - Saturday - Frank and Sarah in the Canyon
day 4 - Sunday - Frank forced me to leave the Canyon
August 23, 2004
we awoke Monday morning and sprung out of the tent. haha, just kidding. after a fitful night of little sleep caused by Mr. Thoughtful stealing the covers and snoring in close range, i begrudgingly awoke.
FRANK: t-shirt babe! achtung! get up off yer lazy pinkytoe and go get me some coffee!
SARAHK: lower your voice. i’m trying to ignore you.
FRANK: but what about my coffee?
SARAHK: answer me this, and i’ll answer you that! what about my covers?
FRANK: my bad.
we slowly got up and started milling around. when i say slowly, i want you to picture a snail scooching through molasses carrying Michael Moore on its back; we were a mite slower than that. Frank went away to brush his teeth and i tried to dress myself.
ouch.
after about 20 minutes, i was dressed in jeans, Nuke the Moon t-shirt, big floppy sandals that sure are heavy when you’re struggling through post-hike trauma and my Grand Canyon fleece jacket. i was ready to hit the bathrooms for my morning Mary Kay routine and a little teethbrushing of my own. a few minutes later, i had successfully climbed out of the tent and began the long 100-foot walk to the bathroom. i passed another lady on my way there (not “passed” as in “walked faster than”, quite impossible, “passed” as in “walked by her as she walked in the opposite direction”) and asked her a question to which i already knew the answer. “oh, did you hike yesterday too?” she tried to respond, but her cries of pain muffled the affirmation. at least i wasn’t alone.
after i returned to the car, Frank had put away most of camp, so we finished up and -hopped- gingerly lifted ourselves into the Explorer and drove to the Lodge for breakfast. there was an unfortunate 25-foot walk from the car to the Lodge, but we were inside within 10 minutes. i might have yelped loudly when we walked down the stairs, but i can’t really remember, as the memory is too painful.
Frank ordered French toast, only he told the waitress he wanted some “Freedom toast” (she didn’t get it), and i ordered pancakes. i thought it laughable that a regular order of pancakes was 3 pancakes, but you could order the “short stack”. ha! what is that, like one pancake? no way! i’m having 3!!
my 3 gargantuan pancakes arrived, and altogether the volume was that of about 20 normal-sized pancakes, while Frank had 4 little bitty bread halves to eat. i know i could have finished my breakfast, but Frank looked so pitiful there, with his sissy bread, that i only ate 1 pancake and let him finish them for me. i’m such a sweet t-shirt babe.
after breakfast, we stepped outside to take one last look around at the amazing view of my favorite place on God’s green earth. then we were off to Albuquerque for the Dave Matthews Band concert.
the drive back through the meadows was beautiful, and Frank hadn’t yet seen this part of the drive, because we had arrived late at night. we made our way down the Vermillion cliffs, which seemed to impress Mr. Wonderful (i couldn’t stop smiling, of course), and into the vast beautiful black hole that is northern Arizona. this time, we saw the Navajo Bridge by daylight, and i even walked out onto it!! if you don’t know my inordinate fear of heights, let me just stress that this was a HUGE undertaking for me; i was so proud. of course, my stomach was somewhere in my esophagus, but i walked out over the expansive Marble Canyon like a big girl.
during the rest of the drive to Flagstaff, Frank and i worked on a most important secret project and laughed evilly as we plotted to take over the world. MUH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
in Flagstaff, i finally had cell service, so i called jonag and told her that Frank didn’t turn out to be a crazy serial killer after all, and she was pleased to hear it; i also learned what had been going on at IMAO and mountaineer musings. “Frank, we’d better get back soon, the children are trashing the place!!” we decided to pick up a fast lunch in Flagstaff, and Frank suggested Jack in the Box.
SARAHK: no. i don’t eat there. bad experience.
FRANK: ok, how about Subway?
SARAHK: i definitely don’t eat there. worse experience.
FRANK: did you have bad service?
SARAHK: you don’t want me to tell you, or you’ll never eat at either place again.
we started to run low on options, and as we neared the Jack in the Crack, i had a change of heart.
SARAHK: you know what? i will go to Jack in the Box. for you. i haven’t been there in 9 years, but for you, i will go.
FRANK: good! i knew you’d see it my way!
i was hoping more for an “awwwww, how sweet,” as i was making a major sacrifice. see, in 1995 i ordered a breakfast croissant at J in the B, and though i didn’t order Green Ham and Eggs, that’s what i was served. i took one bite and vomited, vowing never to eat there again. but truthfully, i’d been hankerin’ for a sourdough jack burger for a number of years, so my big sacrifice didn’t really hurt my feelings too much.
we continued on to Albuquerque, still plotting our world domination and talking about important stuff like marriage, children, wedding dates, –
ha, fooled you silly billies. we were only plotting our world domination and preparing for the concert by listening to all my DMB CDs. oh, and Eminem. we listened to my “clean” Eminem CDs, and i rapped along. Frank was most impressed with my mad skillz as a rapper; he started calling me BustaK.
we arrived in Albuquerque around 7, and i thought we might actually make it into the concert by about 7:30, maybe catch the last of the opening act (The Red West). things were looking good until we exited to the concert venue. as it turns out, the Journal Pavilion has the absolute worst parking strategy known to man. it took about 45 minutes to drive two miles, and we finally got to the parking lot and parked on the farthest row from the entrance. though it was painful, we walked quickly through the parking lot toward the entrance. as we speed-walked (for real, we rushed through the pain), i heard some riffing on an electric guitar, a little fun warmup. “hmm,” said i, “that sounds like Tim Reynolds. but surely we would have heard if he was going to be here.” said Frank, “who’s Tim Reynolds?” * sigh*
we reached the entrance and waded through the security line, and i was happy because we would be inside in time to catch the opener. i walked through with no problem and turned to see Frank being frisked.
FRANK: don’t touch me! i am Frank J! bow before me!
SECURITY GUARD: sir, what is that you’re wearing?
FRANK: Old Spice, you like? SarahK likes it too.
SECURITY GUARD: no, what’s that on your belt.
FRANK: oh, it’s nothing, just my machete.
SECURITY GUARD: you can’t take a machete into the concert.
FRANK: but i’m Frank J, and that’s SarahK right there. she’s my t-shirt babe, and these are my t-shirts. so as i said, bow before me! fear me, even!
SECURITY GUARD: i can’t let you in. you have to take the machete back to your car.
FRANK: if i don’t take the machete in, how am i going to fend off hippies who may want to dance with my SarahK?
SECURITY GUARD: i don’t know. do you know Aikido or something like that? maybe some kind of SmashFu?
FRANK: why yes, i do. come along, SarahK, we have to go back to the car.
SARAHK: but what about the concert? you have a ticket, right? why don’t i just meet you at our seats?
FRANK: NO!! YOU COME WITH ME RIGHT NOW!!
SARAHK: Frank, you’re making a scene.
FRANK: I’LL STOP MAKING A SCENE WHEN YOU COME OVER HERE AND WALK TO THE CAR WITH ME!
SARAHK: but my legs hurt.
FRANK: quit whining.
SARAHK: and what if i miss the opening jam?
FRANK: silence. i am Frank J. i have lowered my voice. you come with me right now.
SARAHK: yes sir.
though Frank wanted to stroll slowly, i grabbed his hand and pulled him along as i ran.
SARAHK: why’d you bring the stupid machete? i could’ve told you they wouldn’t let you in!
FRANK: shh! can’t… talk… right… now… no… breath…
we dropped the weapon at the car and booked it back to the pavilion. we actually got really close before we heard the crowd go wild and the band start playing. at first, i didn’t mind because i thought it was a song off Everyday. eh, my least favorite album, no biggie.
then i realized that they were playing The Stone, which is off my very favorite album, Before These Crowded Streets.
SARAHK: oh! they’re playing The Stone! i’ve not seen this one! hurry!
FRANK: hang on, i need to tie my shoes. both of them.
SARAHK: but they’re already tied!
FRANK: yes, but i’d like to tie them tighter. wait while i do that.
i was thankful that the music was loud enough that i heard everything as we, once again, went through security. i got through and heard Frank say behind me, “see there, Mr. Whineyman? no machete. i would like to protest once more, though, as you let my t-shirt babe through, and look at her! she’s wearing a Nuke the Moon t-shirt! if that’s not a dangerous weapon, i don’t know what is.” i finally just walked off, tired of waiting on Frank, who was in no apparent hurry.
since we’d been driving for 8 hours, we thought a stop off at the bathrooms would be beneficial, and i didn’t mind, because Fool to Think came on as i waited for a stall, and it actually is off of Everyday, and not even close to my favorite Everyday song. we finally made it to our excellent seats during I Did It. i, of course, started to sing along with every song and dance around like a wild hippie.
speaking of wild hippies, there were lots of them around us, and i could tell that Frank was starting to feel effects of the second-hand pot smoke, because he started dancing crazy. so crazy, in fact, that i moved as close to the guy on my right side as i could and pretended i was with him. the band played Hello Again, and i was so excited to have heard a new song. i turned to Frank.
SARAHK: that song’s not yet released! it’s a real honor when you go to a rock concert and they play a song that’s never been released!
FRANK: it is?
SARAHK: yes. and all those people on stage? that sound they’re making? it’s called music.
FRANK: good to know. thanks, sweet SarahK.
the concert was awesome, and Frank took every opportunity he found to torture me. during the silence between songs, there were many shouts of “play the song about the monkeys!” and “play the song about being gay!”. i, a diehard DMB fan fearful of having my Warehouse fanclub membership revoked, just buried my head in Frank’s shoulder after every occurrence. see, we were in Warehouse seats, and all the other Warehouse members kept turning around to see who that crazy guy was that kept yelling about gay monkeys.
they played Typical Situation, and whenever i hear that song, i always think, “oh man, i hate this song,” but then once we get to the chorus, i remember that Typical Situation has one of my all-time favorite song choruses ever, and i think, “i heart this song! everybody’s happy! everybody’s free!” anyway, after TS, Dave welcomed his friend TIM REYNOLDS TO THE STAGE!!!! and i mighta gone a little nuts at that point. Frank didn’t understand, so i explained to him that Timmy doesn’t play with the band often, shows up at random concerts and is on a lot of their special concert CDs. “oh. so you mean this is an imposter?” he raised his fist and shook it at Timmy. “IMPOSTER! GO AWAY! WE CAME TO SEE THE DAVE MATTHEWS BAND!” i may have cried at that point.
Timmy stayed on for four songs, including Dancing Nancies, which i had to explain to Frank was not about being gay. they closed with Too Much, and we waited for the encore.
during the intermission, Frank shouted a number of things, including “FREE HUEY!”. that actually cracked up the hippie next to us. the band came back and played Warehouse (WOO!), and the fabulous concert was over.
it only took us another 2 hours to get out of the parking lot, and my eyes were crossing as i drove to find us a hotel. i was so happy to have internet access that i forgot all about Frank’s embarrassing concert antics. plus, we had a wonderful time, so i didn’t really care when i later received the letter from the Warehouse. “We are sorry, SarahK, but you are no longer welcome in the Dave Matthews Band fanclub. This has nothing to do with your right-leaning blog and everything to do with that feller you brought to our concert in Albuquerque. Thanks for your support of DMB, and please remember to vote early and vote often on November 2. Vote for change!”
“nighty-night, t-shirt babe. i shall miss you till morning.”
“nighty-night, sweet prince, i shall never forget this day.”