The Gorge in George

My favorite thing about attending concerts at the Gorge is that for the extent of your stay, your only job is to be weird. No matter the musical genre, all concert attendees get weird for a 24- to 72-hour period. What does Gorge Weird look like?

Gorge Weird looks like a sea of tents and cars in a giant grass field in the middle of nowhere, and everyone seems to think this is normal.

Gorge Weird looks like a bunch of strangers setting up tents four feet from each other, initially ignoring one another, but becoming BFFs by the  second case of beer.

Gorge Weird looks like a man named Grizzly wandering the fields wearing only a sarong looking for his one true love, in complete faith he will meet her that day. True story.

Gorge Weird looks like multiple men of no relation or acquaintance with weird names, wearing skirts and wandering the fields on various missions.

Gorge Weird looks like a van adorned with discos lights that shows up to every concert – country, rock and folk alike —  blaring techno music from morning to, well, the next morning, for a mob of uber-stoned ravers.

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I spent the weekend here:

The Gorge in George

Dave Matthews -- Dave Matthews Band

Ok, I need volunteers…to live vicariously through.

I’m serious, I was just perusing the Seattle Times webpage and discovered their Outdoor Concert Highlights piece, and got very lethargic.  Alas, funding and timing are not on my side this summer, but if I can’t go to any of them, then at least I can talk about them in hopes that someone will go and share some highlights with their fellow Belles of the Sound friends.

Now, I definitely don’t consider myself a connoisseur of music.  I totally appreciate all the different genres (yes, that includes country), but I usually don’t find out about local bands unless someone wacks me over the head with them, so to speak.  I blame this partially on the fact that I have not yet replaced my car radio that was stolen the better part of two years ago now, so the only opportunity I have to listen to the radio is when I wake up in the morning.  And who am I kidding, I usually am still half asleep anyway.

But I digress.  Back to the music.  There look to be some pretty cool concerts in store for Seattle this summer.  Among them include the ever popular Sasquatch (of which I am embarrassed to say that I have never been to), as well as Bumbershoot , of which I have been to and which holds a special place in my heart because it is where I discovered Rodrigo y Gabriela.  And, as the article mentions, these two just so happen to be coming to a concert near you (at the Marymoor Park that is) this August 13th.

Other highlights according to my humble opinion include: Kings of Leon and Bad Religion at the Gorge, oh and Dave Matthews Band (that goes without saying).  The article lists several other bands and locations, however at first glance I either don’t know who they are or have no interest in seeing them (maybe with the exception of Lilith Fair), so I will let you investigate further on your own.

Also, the article lists the Capitol Hill Block party, which dates have been set for July 23rd and 24th.  I missed out on this last year and regret it so I would love to hear any reviews when it happens again this year.

Well this is hopefully a head start for everyone.  So many music to listen to, so little time, so get to it!

14 albums, over 120 million copies sold.  Inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame.  Nearly 3,000 concerts played, at least 100,000,000 fans to their credit and the endurance to still be here, making my heart thump and soar, twenty-five years after the release of their first album – Is it any wonder that the early midnight of Sunday morning found me strutting down my own hallways with a hot rocker stride, singing at the top of my lungs, rocking out in true, no-one’s-here-to-see fashion?

We should be so honored.  This was the thought that ran through my head earlier that evening as I made my way up the several flights of stairs that would lead me to an evening of pulse-pounding, shout-singing, ear-caressing, pleasure-screaming, awe-inspiring wonder.

So honored.

Yes, this past weekend, Bon Jovi kicked off their Circle Tour in Key Arena, Seattle.  Now this is probably something I should have told you about in advance.  Say, in enough time for you to also get tickets and experience the inspiring lyrical wonder that is Bon Jovi.  But it is okay if you didn’t go.  Your life isn’t that empty.  See?

I took pictures!  So put on your favorite Bon Jovi record and I’ll tell you how it went down.  And if you think I’m being far too enthusiastic, if my praise seems a little exaggerated, I promise you on my honor as a lifelong listener of Bon Jovi that I am telling you every word true.

Or maybe Bon Jovi isn’t to your taste.  Maybe you have a virulent and inexplicable hatred of 80s music.  Maybe hearing Bon Jovi for you is like having someone drive a leukotome between your ears with merciless force and no anesthetic.  Maybe Bon Jovi is a little pedestrian for your tastes.  Yeah, I know there are some of you out there.  That’s okay.  For all those It’s My Life-haters out there, you and I both know you can still sing the words to any one of their hits, courtesy of the fact that this band’s mark on the music scene is penetrating, indelible, and inescapable.

That’s right.  No escape for you.  It’s The Pit and the Pendulum all over again.

It started with Dashboard Confessional, who is sensational, by the way.  My favorite album by them is Dusk and Summer, especially their songs Currents and Rooftops and Invitations.

They even played Vindicated, which fellow trivia connoisseurs will know headlined the Spider-Man 2 soundtrack.  That was a good movie.  You wonder how they went wrong between 2 and 3.

At any rate.   Dashboard Confessional played and sang and glowed under the lights like the musical man-angels they are before graciously ceding the stage.  The overhead lights clicked off, dousing the arena with foggy shadows punctuated by the dim blue of hundreds of cell phones as my fellow concert-goers checked the time, or updated their status in what were no doubt futile attempts to siphon off their excitement. 

And then they appeared on stage.  Jon Bon Jovi, Richie Sambora, Tico Torres, and Dave Bryan.  My friend Mariel had accompanied me and neither of us were so uncouth as to throw our panties at the stage (which still happens, can you believe that?); we were, however, rooted to the edges of our seats until a spectacular belting-out of It’s My Life had us on our feet and jiving in the aisle.  For the next 2 hours.

The band was utterly ruthless in the utilization of their awesomeness.

Now I could rhapsodize further, but I understand that you might want to run over to Silver Platters and buy as many Bon Jovi albums as you can find there.  So I’ll let you go with this:  Upcoming events that you might want to attend so that I don’t have the chance to rub it in your face that I went and you didn’t.

Sunday, February 28, 2010 (2PM-5PM)  Legislate to Liberate at the Seattle Public Library.

Sunday, June 20, 2010 – U2 at Qwest Field.

Labor Day Weekend, 2010 – Dave Matthews Band at the Gorge.

Usually when I step out of my apartment, I get an unobstructed view of Lake Union and Eastlake.  In the summer, I love taking over the strategically placed park bench that offers the clearest view of the lake, where sail boats bob in colorful confusion and the cars on I-5 look like little Matchbox toys.

Today, I stepped out into the great big world to get engulfed in fog.  Couldn’t see the lake.  Could barely see along the road far enough to avoid getting hit by incoming cars.

You might wonder what had drawn me out of my sweet, warm bed on my day off – thank you, Lincoln! – to make my way through fog-filled streets thick with cold.

It was the promise of something better than cereal to eat for breakfast.

It was the lure of something with more snap than the coffee that my (coffee-maker) Tristan makes with such loyal consistency.

It was Macrina’s Bakery. 

Perched at the top of Queen Anne hill, right on 6^th and McGraw, Macrina’s offers a myriad of baked goods: tarts and turnovers, bread and brioche, rolls rich with fruit and bread fresh-made that morning.

Breakfast for me was hot ginger-apple cider and an Italian plum tart.  I had to smile when my server made it, as the steam from the ginger made her eyes water (she laughed, too.  I am not a monster).  The tart, though dusted with powdered sugar, had none of the too-much, too-rich, can’t-finish qualities that you sometimes get from your local Starbucks pastries.  Nuts were nestled throughout the chewy bread; the plum, in happy contrast, had been baked to an almost chocolate-like consistency.  Sharp apple, made sassy with ginger, harmonized with the nut and fruit so that every sip was a pleasure.

I am not a morning person, and so it’s hard for me to be around people who are.  But as I sit in Macrina’s typing this post, I am surrounded by the light chatter of Macrina’s patrons, occasionally punctuated by laughter or smiles and I don’t feel like Grumpy Bear on steroids.  This alone, I feel, should recommend this bakery to you.

On an entirely unrelated note, Dave Matthews Band has power over babies.  I baby-sat this weekend and played The Stone on my iPhone.  The kid was asleep within minutes!

Also, “dynamitard” isn’t in the Merriam-Webster online dictionary.  So THERE.