The Rock Weekend

So this past weekend the Rock and Roll Boyfriend played in a series of shows with The Weakerthans, where he's an auxillary member. So after a fabulous time spending two days in NYC, I dove right into a Band Girlfriend weekend of lots of shows, lots of loud music and even more beer (well, not that much beer because I'm on lots of meds for the disease).

The Constantines are the Canadian rock band -- while The Weakerthans will always be the love of my life; the Cons are equated to that awesome drunk sex you have at the end of a long, great night with the really hot boy you've had a crush on forever.

I managed to drag my tired ass to all three night shows: Thursday, Friday and Saturday, even though by the end I was pretty sure my bronchitis was back and I was dead sick by Sunday afternoon.

There's something about a rock and roll show the way everything can be just right: they'll play your favourite song; the beer will be cold enough and stay cold; the people will all be happy to be there and no one will be obnoxious; and that good feeling stays with you forever. Well, at least until the next morning when you've got a wicked hangover and have decided you're dying because your chest is infected once again and you're mad because the disease is controlling your life instead of the other way around.

Oh, and did I mention that all of my rock and roll crushes now begin with the letter "W"? The keyboard player from the Cons with his twist-tie legs and boundless energy is named Will; and the lead singer from Cuff the Duke, scrawny and penniless with a new record coming out in the next couple months is Wayne. Ah, to be ten years younger and not an old rock widow with grey hair and too much cellulite on her ass.