if loving the killers is wrong, i don't want to be right...

So, i went to a rock 'n roll concert last night at the ACC. In an effort to recall that we are normal, social human beings and not merely conduits for Baby Girl's 24-7 amusement, we bought tickets to see the Killers. I was truly concerned that Mr. Lemony Lemonade and I were going to be the only people old enough to remember Wham!, the first season of the Simpsons and quote Seinfeld ad nauseum. But, as it turns out, we weren't; and that even excludes the parents chaperoning the tweens. I digress - prior to last night, I am not certain that I have ever seen so many under 40's in one place at one time. Living and working right downtown means that I am constantly surrounded by people who are gainfully employed, wear suits and drink cocktails. That being said, I was pleased to learn that Snoreonto has its fair share of what I like to call "mean girls"; the ones that wear capri combat trousers, have perfect, anal retentive hairstyles, strangely small purses and a penchant for travelling in gangs. We sat behind an entire row of them and they had really interesting, self concious yet well practiced 'concert dancing moves'. In their midst was "the guy" who does a lot of fist pumping, finger-in-mouth-overly-loud-whistling and knew every word to every song and felt the need to make cell phone calls, sing into the phone and then hold it aloft, presumably so that the listener could partake in the rock n' roll concert. I am convinced that his name is Matt because I knew guys like him in college and they were always named Matt.

In all, I thought that the ACC as a venue blew - the acoustics were bad so that the concert ultimately reminded me of a high school dance. And of course, what review would be complete without complaining about the cost of the drink. I realize that it's beyond cliche to do this, but I have to point out that "a medium" Canadian is $9.95 each. So, as I am standing there wondering how they get away with this kind of outrageous thievery, I come to and realize that I am partaking, enabling the monopolistic, capitalist highway robbery that is occurring right under our noses, so I refused to buy a beer, although Mr. Lemony Lemonade bought two, but I was really scowly...that'll show them.