Seven Days music editor, Dan Bolles, has a message for people who chat during live music concerts. And I respectfully quote: "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."
But no one has ever likely told Bolles to "chill and lose 20 years" at a show — as a fellow audience member suggested I do at Neko Case on Sunday night at Higher Ground.
My mistake was to politely ask a tousled-haired boy and his girlfriend if they would stop talking loudly so the rest of us could hear the music. They were so high, they were "dancing" to Case's haunting songs. It was more like writhing, though, as the two were engaged in a combination of chatting, grinding and sucking face.
Another couple moved directly in front of me and my boyfriend to get away from the action. I figured: I can either let this rude, fucked-up behavior distract me for the duration of the concert — or say something. Now that I'm 50, it was an easy choice. The older I get, the more I'm willing to say what no one else will.
My first request fell on deaf ears. So I asked again, suggesting the two of them might prefer to get acquainted over by the bar. That's when he hit me with the rude, ageist "remark" that left me stewing for the rest of the set.
My boyfriend wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed for me or by me, or punch the guy. Although he claims he didn't hear exactly what the fellow said to me, he now refers to the night's events as "the altercation."
It takes effort — and money — to go out and hear live music on a cold winter school night. I didn't pay 25 bucks to end up in a bar fight. Or to be disrespected by some jackass who mistook a Neko Case concert for a high-school prom.
Am I old and cranky? I am now.