it's not big, it's large

We all know that concerts at outdoor venues totally suck ass.  But we also all know that Lyle Lovett is one of the coolest motherfuckers who has ever lived.  And on a night like tonight - currently still eighty degrees with low humidity in the cloudless and waning sunlight - an excursion to Wolftrap to see Lyle Lovett and his Large Band sounds like not quite the worst idea in the world.  Granted, the venue is inherently inferior to the 9:30 Club (or more appropriately in this case - the Birchmere), but we won't deny that the notion of pretending we aren't sitting in the dirt while surrounded by a horde of mouth-breathing half-wits as a miniscule Lyle Lovett and his teeny Large Band perform their particular brand of wry adult-contemporary music several hundred yards away sounds like it could be moderately pleasant.  You know, given the proper mindset.  I can certainly see how some people might enjoy that.  I'm an optimist that way.

None of that applies to me, though, because I am a total deadbeat who allows work to interfere with everything.  Not that I couldn't have gone at all, mind you.  But I've been so focused on other things that I completely forgot about the show until it was too late, even with a reminder from Emma last week.  On the upside, I guess, Lyle will be back through town next year - just like always.  Of course, with my luck his '09 show will be scheduled for mid-August and it will be a hundred and five degrees in the shade with ninety percent humidity.  Good times.  I can hardly wait.

Her First Mistake

Lyle Lovett