It’s official. I’ve met the love of my life.
Well, I mean, the love of my life other than the obvious: Jonathan Jameson of Delta Spirit (duh!) who will always hold a special place in my heart.
Unfortunately, Jonathan Jameson and I are in a fight right now because his wife just had his baby like two weeks ago. The audacity!
Anyway — Huh? What? Oh, him? The one doing that bike thing, whose last name I’ve temporarily taken?
Yeah, he’s still OK too.
But my new love. OH, MY NEW LOVE! He’s a dream boat. Meet Shakey Graves, ladies and gents:
I saw him in concert last night and he was, to put it eloquently, AMAZEBALLS.
I first saw Shakey Graves on Audio Tree, and when I heard that he was coming through Indy, I had to see him live. He’s a one man band — playing a guitar, beating a kickdrum with his right foot and a tambourine with his left foot, and singing in a smoky, bluesy voice. He’s a great live performer. Charismatic, funny, interactive. He even took requests! And he cussed a lot, which all the ladies love.
Speaking of love, it was definitely in the air last night.
Gentle reader, if you don’t already know, there is nothing more horribly, terrifyingly annoying to me than couples who canoodle at concerts. It’s my biggest pet peeve. STOP TOUCHING EACH OTHER! STOP IT! DO NOT MAKE LOVE IN THIS CROWD! I’M STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO YOU!
Take the couple standing next to me during the show last night. They assumed the most annoying coupley concert-viewing position: Woman lover standing in front of man lover, man lover’s hands around woman lover’s waist. Full body contact.
Gag me.
Except, this couple took it to another level. Instead of putting his hands around his lady lover’s waist, the man spent most of the show cupping her breasts. I AM NOT LYING. I stared at them for a while, mouth gaping, and I am telling you, it’s the truth. When he wasn’t cupping his lady, the man was massaging her head. So vigorously, in fact, that when he was finished, woman lover’s hair was sticking up all over the place like a crazy woman. That’s probably because, as he massaged, the man nuzzled his face in her hair. NUZZLED HIS FACE IN HER HAIR! NEXT TO ME!
You guys. I died. It was so horrible.
Coincidentally, it was all I could do not to jump on stage and nuzzle my own face on Shakey Graves, so I tried to show the lovers some compassion.
Oh, also, Katharine spotted this other couple frenching in the stairway:
This was my attempt at a sneaky photo. Yes, he’s wearing a cowboy hat. Yes, we’re in Indianapolis. Of course, they’re not frenching here, thank the Lord Almighty. On our way out of the concert venue, Katharine and I saw them sneak into a darkened Gentlemen’s bathroom. God’s speed, lovers.
Anyway. I’m feeling gross talking about these strange couples.
Do yourself a favor and check out Shakey Graves. Then nuzzle a lover of your own.
PS. Do you think I generally have a thing for guys with lots of hair?
Jillian Wyatt 