Last night I went to go see
Skinny Molly, away up in Forest Lake, MN. When I say away up, I mean about an hour outside of civilization, a great vacation spot on the lake with your family in the summer for summer activities lke boating, hiking and the like, in the winter for things like snowmobiling and...um, icefishing? Anyway, an idyllic forested area (hence the name, one supposes) but not exactly a cultural or venue mecca.
Regardless of these facts, the trek was made to go the the great norte to see this band. And I definitely am glad I went. The show itself was great, the performers all lively and obviously had their hearts entirely involved in their music. Absolutely lovely to watch, and the music was solid and kept us going happy. Now we come to the really interesting parts.
So one of the St. Paul/Mpls larger radio stations, KQRS, was there promoting the event. Several of the guys would get on stage and announce something or other, different philanthropic ventures as well as just random announcements. Can't say I really listened or paid too much attention at all. After all, I wasn't interested as well as I had my iPhone so was a happy little texting girl. Well later on, one of the announcy guys came over to me and asked me if I wanted to meet the band. I said no, first because I wasn't interested in accompanying a strange man anyplace as well as secondly, I just am a little too shy to be that kind of person who would want to be all ga ga over any bandpeople. Thanks I reserve my reverence for puppies.
Well, I'm standing in the crowd forever and two notable events happened. One, some very large, disgustingly drunk yokel lady, with frizzy bleached blonde hair and the early 80's bangs to match wet herself near me. Now, do I say this because I have absolute evidence? No. I say this because she had fallen over herself many a time already, and then suddenly, she was standing there and the back and bottom of her acid-washed jeans were wet. In a spreading manner. Ew.
The other interesting thing was there was an older gentleman standing next to me most of the night. Looked native american in heritage, medium-length hair, and wearing a jacket with jeans and sunglasses and a generally 'too cool' manner. Well the only part that actually made him interesting was that he had a red rose boutonniere. Of course I had to inquire about it when the show was over. So I asked him about it. Simple question, and he looks down to me and slowly says, "Don't you know who I am, honey?" I of course could not answer in the affirmitive so I apologized and said no. He pats my cheek like you do with a toddler, and said something to the effect of 'I'm Gene Simmons..." there was more to it than that but I am horrible at verbatim recollecting. So anyway I am all atwitter because I feel like a fool but confused. Short story long, he was not Gene Simmons but some sort of local look-alike but I still felt silly. It was a funny time.
After many and more caffeinated beverages I was inside warming up and getting water in me before the long trek home and the band came in near me. We chatted and they were very nice guys, it was a good time!
So glad Gene Simmons hasn't fallen to the level of the Forest Laker. Sad times for him and his family when he does.