That’s how long my parents lasted with Meatloaf. Thirteen minutes. I had anticipated that it would be loud – too loud for my mother to enjoy, but I was way off. My father called it “absolute noise” – and he’s not one of those fathers who complains that all that crap the kids listen to these days is noise. He really meant it.
Apparently, Mr. Loaf’s preference for performing is to crank up the volume to a decibel level that can inflict pain. (Did you know that a sound measuring 120 decibels is 10 times louder that a sound at 110 decibels? The decibel scale increases in a logarithmic formula . . . . oh, give it up. I don’t remember the details, but let’s just say my dad knows stuff.) He said it was so loud, you could have started up a jet engine in the arena and no one would have heard it. Both of my parents wore earplugs (such good planners!), but they didn’t help at all. My dad said his teeth hurt.
After what seemed to be Mr. Loaf’s second song (it was hard to tell if they were actual songs because it was really just noise and Meatloaf screaming), they left the arena, joined by many, many others. One woman said she had to take her heart medication because the noise made her heart start to pound.
I talked to my mother after the conversation with my father. She said that Meatloaf looked like he was “drunk or on something” (Disclaimer: Mr. Loaf, please understand that is simply her opinion based on her observation of you – and from a distance, I might add. Although there were close-ups of you on the two large screens that flanked the stage. And you looked pretty sloppy.) Meatloaf had a red bandana tied to his microphone on the mike stand and my mother asked my aunt why she thought he had it there. My aunt’s reply was, “so he can find it.”
My parents, my aunt, and my uncle were able to salvage the night at Mohegan Sun by having drinks and a good dinner. My uncle really salvaged the night by winning $600. Not too shabby. At least they didn’t pay for the tickets.
Now, the knitting:
This is my monkey. I’m trying to love the monkey. Trying. But I’m not loving the monkey. The monkey is wacky looking. The pattern is lovely. The yarn is beautiful. They just don’t work together. I didn’t realize that this yarn (TOFUtsies) was going to make such big, irregular stripes. It looked to me like it would be an overall variegated yarn. Not happy, but not giving up. I can’t stand the thought of ripping it out. I’m just going to finish – I’ll make a mini-monkey like Cara did at January One. I looked around last night and found some pattern modifications on various websites (like this) that I might try on my next socks. Just sad. No fun when something doesn’t come out like the perfect work of art I envisioned in my optimistic head.
At least I didn’t have to listen to a big, sweaty man scream his head off.