Narcolepsy, Norah, and Me

Maybe it was the beat of the rain on my umbrella but Norah Jones had a seriously soporific effect on me last night. I could barely keep my eyes open. I was... fine, I was fucking bored to death. And it didn't help that I only got one fancy seat press pass so I got to sit in style all by my lonesome while friends and loved ones were exiled behind a fence in the cheap seats. VIPS like me get a white cotton hanky to wipe the seat off. They get plastic bag ponchos to don. And actual seats. At the front. 

I felt like a sell out. I missed my peeps. My proletariet. The hardworking real people outside of the bubble. Not enough to get up and move to my friends huddled far behind me, mind you, but I did contemplate it for like ten seconds.

So, I love Norah but I hadn't realized that what is great to listen to at home in the background doesn't necessarily translate to a not-to-be-missed concert experience. 

The outfit was awesome. I want that blue polka-dotted dress with the red petticoat. Vintage? Had to be.

I didn't get the need for all that atmospheric fog that kept blowing. I mean, shit, it was a fucking monsoon already. At one point, Norah was virtually obscured in smoke.

Good cover of Johnny Cash. Winsome, sweetly awkward repartee. Is NJ from Texas? She sounded twangy when she spoke. Great voice. But I don't like the country phase as much as the old, original bluesy stuff. Just sooooooo meh somehow. Not lighter worthy...probably a good thing since I may have set fire to my umbrella.

Don't Know Why.

You?

Full disclosure: I decamped for home before ten so maybe I missed the best stuff!