I love Kelly. My brother’s girlfriend Kelly. She pretty much rocks my world. She was shoved another five or six inches up the pedestal today when she did the “groupie” thing with me.

It was Foo Day.

I think we hit The Loop around 4:30p. It was later than we’d hoped, but that’s what happens when one of the two of us was up well into the night launching a new site! ::cough:: Surprisingly, the line wasn’t very long yet. Doors were at 7p, and I’d expected worse.

The very lovely part of the interminable wait was this: The Pageant, our small-ish venue on The Loop, has a bar. It seems that if you are not a minor, and if you arrive early enough, you can wait in the bar instead. The sweetest thing about waiting in the bar, though, is that when doors open at 7p, the bar enters The Pageant first. Then they let everyone else in.

We managed to maneuver to the rail quickly and ended up immediately in front of Dave Grohl’s microphone. One row of people had made it in before us - but I could live with that. Ten feet away from a national treasure for two hours? I could definitely live with that.

The opening act was Oh. My. God. Bad. The Special Goodness is some sort of creation of the drummer from Weezer, and his tech. Yes, I said it correctly, his drum tech. They were magnificently bad. The bass and bass drum were mic’ed up so loud, I thought my eardrums would bleed. When I turned around and looked at the rest of the pit during their set, all the teenaged boys were standing still, mouths kind of slack. No one applauded after their first song. It was just that bad.

Between sets I started feeling the first wave of panic. The pit was being very poorly behaved. Very. Most of the people in it seemed to be younger than 21 (as evidenced by the very large red X’s on their hands in permanent marker) and they were mostly boys. Young boys in a group tend to act even dumber than they do individually. And, to my dismay, they lived up to their reputation.

The first thing I saw as the curtains opened was Dave Grohl with his guitar. The second thing I saw was a wave of blackness threatening me as I was completely crushed into the guy in front of me. Kelly was on my left, a kid was on my right, someone had me from behind, and I thought immediately of all the other concerts where people were crushed to death. At this point, it wasn’t a matter of enjoying the show, it was a matter of survival.

No, I’m NOT too old to be in the pit.

Turns out, the dumbass m’f'in’ kids behind us were shoving us forward in waves - for no particular reason. Oh, okay. It’s bad enough to mosh into each other like 200lb morons (which, I know, is the point of the mosh pit), but then go ahead and throw all your weight on the back of 50 dancing people. Hello, broken ribs.

Dave was looking beautiful, as always. Older, though. Made me feel older, actually. Of course, I guess when you start drumming for Nirvana at 21, by 34 you’re bound to look a bit older. He was talking “shit” (as he calls it) between every second or third song… Chatting about the band, his massive hangover, his case of diarrhea (where it was determined this was TMI), the tour, The Pageant, etc. He commented that it was the first time they’d been in St. Louis since they played with the Chili Peppers, and I was all “noooo!” He’s like, wait, wait, yeah that’s right, we played here before! I’m all thumbs up (with half the audience) and he’s like, yeah okay, I see you guys out there telling me I’m wrong, it’s cool.

The high point of just about the entire night was when he strummed the opening chord to “February Stars.” I think my knees about went out from under me. He starts laughing as the crowd goes nuts and says, “I’m not playin’ that fuckin’ song.” Boos light the crowd. “There’s no way I’m playin’ that fuckin’ song.” He goes on to explain that he wrote that song for the second album, just to show everyone they could play a “pretty song.” He swore at that time he was going to play it at every single show. “I haven’t played that for six years,” he laughed.

Okay, he says. We’ll play one pretty one tonight. What will it be? “February Stars” or…. “Everlong”? Oh, dammit! I was so aggravated. I could die a happy woman, hearing Dave actually sing “February Stars” right in front of me. Unbelieveable. The funniest thing is, though, when he sheepishly looked down and said, “Truth is, I don’t even remember that song anymore.”

So close, yet…

I had tears when they played “Aurora.” I’m still of the opinion that “There is Nothing Left to Lose” is their best all-around album, and “Aurora” is the epitome of all things Foo. Beautiful lyrics, which Dave thinks he’s terrible at, and music woven around every single instrument. It’s intricate and small and builds to intricate and huge, and for some reason it gets me every time. The last minute of the song is my favorite. And live, it was incredible.

The set was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too short. They came out around 9:30p and finished up around 11p. I was so bummed. Blink and you miss it. But it was incredible to be that close to Dave. Dave Grohl. The singer, the songwriter, the drummer. Oooooh.

So, you know. Kelly and I left the show without waiting around out back, which is a miracle for me. We were heartily bitching and moaning on the way to the car about the crush and the seven-foot-tall bastard who continuously tried to get in front of Kelly (who is a petite thing). He elbowed half in front of her before the show - before anyone was even behind us! I asked him if he had enough room, and he missed the sarcasm completely. During the show, he nearly crushed Kelly to death, and at several points elbowed her out of the way to give Dave a clearer look at his devil horns. It was at this point I lost my barely-checked temper and punched him in the side, under his arm. He looked down at me and I just glared. “Move it!” Ah yes, Green Shirt Boy won’t soon be forgotten.

We moaned about the bitch who was doing an, “excuse me, excuse me” through the boys and tried to cut in front of me between songs. I nearly backed away to let her through until I remembered the girls who did this to me at the Creed show in Little Rock. I threw my arm in front of her and asked, “Where are you going?” She says, “right there,” and points at the three inches of space in front of Kelly. This girl is my height, and I laugh. “I don’t think so, sweetheart.” And I proceed to block her way. She tried again a while later, but I think after I bumped her back to where she came from she got the hint.

We bitched about the girl on Kelly’s left, who had ultra-bad timing. We’d just come out of a wave of nearly being crushed to death, and Green Shirt Boy was pissing me off. The Wave of Death had come this time from the dumbass boys to my right and behind us, who were slam-dancing into each other, and then decided to try to push people to make them fall off their feet and onto the floor. This rocked the pit so badly that several people actually did fall, and my temper was smokin’. Just at this point this little chick decides to try to jump in front of Kelly. Just because I was pissed in general, I took a step to the left and lunged at the girl like a defensive end. I’m not sure where the girl ended up, but it certainly cleared Kelly’s space. And I felt better, anyway.

The funniest thing that happened was during the encore. The Foos are playing “Everlong” (the greatest song ever recorded) and suddenly the entire pit of schoolchildren decides they are stoned enough to start body-surfing. The “guards” (what a joke) don’t even move their asses long enough to point out the surfing bodies. I took at least one boot to the head, and still have the bruise. It was absolutely fucking nuts. We had no one through the whole show, then this?

Oh yeah, the funny part. After Kelly and I duck down about twelve times to let the guys on each side of us deal with the corpses (of sorts), I saw another one coming, this time just to my right. Sighing (and missing “Everlong” nearly completely) I turn around to protect my head. Apparently, though, I wasn’t the only person tired of the surfing. Suddenly lots of pairs of hands come out of nowhere and take the guy and throw him backward - and let go. Mr. Dumbass landed on the ground with a thud. And I laughed.

So, it was good, it was bad, it was ugly. But the Foo Fighters are undeniably better than ever, and if I’m not careful I’m going to be following them around the country. It’s all a matter of time.

Booyah, baby!

michelle