Atomictumor

I like technology, because sometimes it can capture certain nuances that reality misses.

For example, during the show last night, it was so loud that the communications with MastaG were done with the writing pad on my phone. I have attached these communications as they appeared, to tell you how it went.

(BTW, Of Montreal rocks, and my ears still ring. His are reportedly fine, so I guess I’m getting old)

1.

I’m not sure what the origin of this particular piece is, but I feel it speaks for itself.

2.

This would be his retaliation. Note how long his arms are as they choke me, while mine are so little.

3.

More of MastaG’s retaliation, but I’m not sure whats going on. Apparently the phone is, because it put that little square around what appears to be the action.

This was all done while we were waiting for Loney, Dear, the opening band, to start. We got there purposefully late, because we’d heard some of their music and didn’t really dig it, but they must have known that, and started late. Like, 45 minutes late. As in, they were going on stage as we arrived, expecting to see Of Montreal. At least we got a nice spot at the front, stage right, but behind all of the teenagers crowding the middle of the stage. Teenagers, for the most part, are to be avoided.

G was standing on a chair that the nice lady working the sound board behind us offered to him so he could see. However, as soon as Of Montreal started, he started sagging.

4.

Yes, they just started, have played a few songs, and G is wanting to go. They started out playing the first 5 or 6 songs of their new record straight through, which is always entertaining. One of the problems, however, with seeing them is that on most of their new songs the drums are preprogrammed, which means no deviations in speed. Its a slightly different loop than whats in the song, which is nice, but one of the joys of seeing some bands like the White Stripes or Wilco is seeing what they do to the songs live, after playing them over and over again.

I digress, the point here is that MastaG was asking to go. I voiced a reply.

5.

Yes, yes, I called my son a dumbass. He’s used to it, so don’t go calling child and family services on me. Anyway, it didn’t really matter, because he took the phone back and said:

6.

Yes, the addition of the frowny faces. In case you can’t tell, this is “After this can we go”. Now, after this can be construed many ways, and I like those kind of loopholes in my parenting. After this song? After the show? After the month/year? After the presidential term?

My reply was simple.

7.

Yes, so simple that once again, the phone boxed it. I was curious to see the response. I was prepared to go, but I wasn’t going to make it easy on the boy.

8.

Ah, a retreat. He was still standing on the seat. He wasn’t dancing, like I was, but ol’MastaGs not a dancer. He’s the stoic type that watches a show with his arms crossed, as if dubious about this performance that he spent several dollars on. These people expect entertainment, and they’ll wait until the show’s over to reflect on it and make sure that, yes, they were indeed entertained. Afterwards they’ll tell their friends about the kickass show they saw, but nobody ever mentions the fact that they were auditing the show.

Ahh, kids.

Again, I digress. Now, I gave G a few minutes, and then handed this over.

9.

Note the smiley face. Yes, this was a friendly message. I like to keep em off guard.

10.

Yep. Off guard.

11.

Now, I couldn’t yell, but I felt that this response did the job. MastaG responded with an essay.

12.

Actually, OK this last one was a joint effort. He’s tired and croup? Finally, I resorted to the good old second grade “circle yes or no”. He started to write “what” when I took it away to clarify things.

13.

Tried the circle thing again, and got a percentage answer. I still don’t know how to take this, so I just let it rest for a bit.

14.

We had made an agreement to wait until they played “Soul Power”, one of his favorite songs, but about an hour and a half into the concert, they hadn’t done so. We agreed that after this song, we’d take off (thats the K of agreement that I wrote, in case you’re not sure).

15.

And then he took it back. My frantic urge to shake him like a british nanny was reflected in my hasty reply.

16.

“Dude, just tell me when to go”.

Indeed.

By the time I handed this to G, they were bowing out. We ended up staying for the encore, where, yes, they DID play Soul Power, along with an excellent cover of Prince’s Raspberry Beret.

Of Montreal rocks. They switch back and forth, between life drums and electric guitars, to keyboards and techno drums, but its all a damn fine show.

We got home around 1, where I fell asleep, ironically, while he watched TV. What a dork.