Mexican is the new Irish
I love St Patrick's day. I loved it when I was little and it meant I had an excuse to wear green from head to toe and pinch others who did not. I liked it when I got older and guys would try to kiss me because I obviously WAS Irish.
Now I love it because in Portland it's as big a holiday as Christmas in some ways. I will admit that I don't love the total insanity that generally happens by later in the evening down by the river ( I read that there were 24 DUIs that evening), but I do love how people come out of the woodwork to drink and celebrate - whether they have any Irish in them or not.
This year Amadan was coming out from their four month hiatus to play, so I geared up to join the crazies. Jane had given me their CD a while back but this was my first live show. She and I made careful plans to jet over to Kells ("If you can't go to Ireland, go to Kells") directly after work in hopes of beating the mile long lines. Thankfully, Amadan had a fairly early set, so we didn't have to contemplate the midnight madness. We did it too. We made it to the front tent around 5. The line still went halfway around the block, but I'm told it could have been worse. (It felt a little like waiting the Star Wars movie lines, only instead of light sabers there people with shamrock headband antennae and green pants) .
Amadan was fantastic, some would have been appalled by the none-too-careful sound engineering. You couldn't hear Naoyuki or his fiddle at all. (yes, a short Asian-Canadian os the fiddle player for the Irish band from Portland. How could I not love these guys. Jane introduced me to her buddies Mark and Katie, said hi to the band and positioned ourselves right in front of the stage, where we proceeded to jump around like idiots for the next hour and a half.
So much fun. Highlights included:
- A very drunk indonesian guy with a rat tail climbing on stage... he was ignored, and eventually, his wife just pulled him back down
- Some enthusiastic, drunk, kilted male dancers behind us slammed into Katie and I one too many times, resulting in a surge of testosterone that sent Mark slamming back into them - with a bit more force and intent. His message was clear. While on one hand, I don't love the method, I was glad he did it - dirty looks and polite requests weren't working. He went back and chatted with them before we left, too, just to make sure all was ok. Whatever. Boy stuff. Don't get it, but I appreciated it. I'm sure Mark enjoyed getting to be manly and protective for three girls, too.
- Got a hug from Jeremy. What a cool guy. Didn't realize that he was in the band...doh!
We left after their set, and Jane and I handed off our insanely expensive entrance bracelets to some girls that seemed cool and were stuck at the end of the line, since we were going home. Then the four of us decided to end the night. . .at a Mexican Restaurant down on third and Alder. There Mark and Jane had what was, in retrospect, probably a somewhat inappropriate argument about immigrant rights.
Yup. So after that, Katie and Mark went back to the Fest, and Jane and I went home to our respective furry friends. But man, what a good night! And I was comfortably in bed with my book by 9:30! Is that sad or fabulous?
So yeah. Happy St Paddy's to all and to all a goodnight.
Now I love it because in Portland it's as big a holiday as Christmas in some ways. I will admit that I don't love the total insanity that generally happens by later in the evening down by the river ( I read that there were 24 DUIs that evening), but I do love how people come out of the woodwork to drink and celebrate - whether they have any Irish in them or not.
This year Amadan was coming out from their four month hiatus to play, so I geared up to join the crazies. Jane had given me their CD a while back but this was my first live show. She and I made careful plans to jet over to Kells ("If you can't go to Ireland, go to Kells") directly after work in hopes of beating the mile long lines. Thankfully, Amadan had a fairly early set, so we didn't have to contemplate the midnight madness. We did it too. We made it to the front tent around 5. The line still went halfway around the block, but I'm told it could have been worse. (It felt a little like waiting the Star Wars movie lines, only instead of light sabers there people with shamrock headband antennae and green pants) .
Amadan was fantastic, some would have been appalled by the none-too-careful sound engineering. You couldn't hear Naoyuki or his fiddle at all. (yes, a short Asian-Canadian os the fiddle player for the Irish band from Portland. How could I not love these guys. Jane introduced me to her buddies Mark and Katie, said hi to the band and positioned ourselves right in front of the stage, where we proceeded to jump around like idiots for the next hour and a half.
So much fun. Highlights included:
- A very drunk indonesian guy with a rat tail climbing on stage... he was ignored, and eventually, his wife just pulled him back down
- Some enthusiastic, drunk, kilted male dancers behind us slammed into Katie and I one too many times, resulting in a surge of testosterone that sent Mark slamming back into them - with a bit more force and intent. His message was clear. While on one hand, I don't love the method, I was glad he did it - dirty looks and polite requests weren't working. He went back and chatted with them before we left, too, just to make sure all was ok. Whatever. Boy stuff. Don't get it, but I appreciated it. I'm sure Mark enjoyed getting to be manly and protective for three girls, too.
- Got a hug from Jeremy. What a cool guy. Didn't realize that he was in the band...doh!
We left after their set, and Jane and I handed off our insanely expensive entrance bracelets to some girls that seemed cool and were stuck at the end of the line, since we were going home. Then the four of us decided to end the night. . .at a Mexican Restaurant down on third and Alder. There Mark and Jane had what was, in retrospect, probably a somewhat inappropriate argument about immigrant rights.
Yup. So after that, Katie and Mark went back to the Fest, and Jane and I went home to our respective furry friends. But man, what a good night! And I was comfortably in bed with my book by 9:30! Is that sad or fabulous?
So yeah. Happy St Paddy's to all and to all a goodnight.
posted by K-Lyn @ 9:48 PM
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