This is Joe's Fault

Monday, March 08, 2004

Loverboy Oh Boy

Every year about this time my roommates and I get restless. If we've been good and saved enough money we'll usually go somewhere warm for a week to give us all a break from the monotonous cold and dark of a Canadian winter. Sometimes we want to go somewhere fun during the summer months and can't manage to get out to the sunny climes in the dead of winter, though.

That's when we get a little creative and try to take a weekend break somewhere close and relatively cheap. For years the girls and I (some of our other friends as well) would go to Niagara Falls for Saturday night (about an hour and a half drive from here), get a crappy cheap hotel split 4 or 5 ways, get dolled up and take a cab over to the U.S. side to dance our faces off in a little dive bar that takes Canadian money at par. It's a fun little getaway that makes us feel like we've been somewhere even though we haven't been far.

This year, though, we decided to change it up. This weekend the roommates and boyfriends and myself went to Casino Rama to see Loverboy and do a little gambling. I was never a huge Loverboy fan, but I have their Best Of CD and thought it would be fun to see how time had treated the Canadian rock stars of the 80s. As for gambling, it's not my thing, but I can stand it for a night.

We got to the hotel in time to check in, settle in and have a quick drink. We walked down to the casino entrance/entertainment complex and got stopped for i.d. Yipes, I'm 34 at the end of the month, didn't really think I'd need it, it was upstairs in the hotel room. However, I looked to the cooler young guy on the right and he said "how old are you?" I told him and he said "fine, go ahead", then I said "I'm old enough to know who Loverboy is, lets put it that way" and he laughed.

My roommates weren't so lucky, though. They're older than I am by a year, but went to the prick guy on the left who was giving them a hard time. My one roomate had left her i.d. up in the room, too, and the other one had a passport that had recently expired as her i.d. (she doesn't drive, so it's her only picture i.d.) The guy was giving her grief about it. "Look, I'm not trying to get into another country, I'm just trying to see Loverboy. It expired two months ago, I was thirty-five then, it probably means I'm thirty-five now." He grudgingly let her in but let her know that he could turn her away if he was so inclined. My other roommate had to go back up to the room to get her id. It was pretty ridiculous, considering there wasn't even drinking allowed at the concert.

After the crack security team let us all through we proceeded to the venue and were brought up to our seats. The place was pretty large, and it was full (good for them, I thought). Of old people. It made me think that perhaps this concert came as part of a package for a weekend at the Casino and the old folks were hoping to get a good show after their steak dinner.

The keyboard player came out first and started playing, and then the rest of the band came on one by one and joined in in the song, all except for the lead singer. Then he walked slowly on and up to the mic. They shone the spotlight on him as he greeted the audience and all I could think was, "Oh my god, some big fat guy swallowed Mike Reno."

They started out with one of their big hits and me and my roommates were kind of awestruck at how old the band looked. I mean, we expected to see them getting older, sure, but we've been spoiled with the likes of Mick Jagger and Sting and Madonna, etc. Sure, those artists have aged, too, but not, like, aged. I don't think you'd see any of them wearing leather pants with an elastic waistband and a panel in the front for extra comfort, just as a fer instance.

The kid... is hot tonight... whoa, so hot tonight...

"And his prostate's probably the size of a melon" I thought nastily.

Mike's voice is still really good, though, he can still belt it out, and the band is still quite good. There were a lot of songs I actually didn't know, but I didn't mind. It was kind of a mellow night and I got a kick out of seeing the really old guy across the aisle from us rocking out and singing every word.

There were a few things that bothered me about the concert, though. If there are any aspiring rock stars out there, please let me give you a word of advice: solos are boring. Even if you're really, really good, a drum solo will not excite anybody. This goes for each of the instruments in your band. Under no circumstances should you and your bandmates take ten minutes each to go to town on your respective instruments, even if it is just a clever ruse to give your fat old bandmates time to grab a hit of oxygen and hold their sides until the pain of walking around on stage subsides. You're fooling no one and boring everyone. Thanks.

During the show, there were times that the band had built up some energy and the band's followers (a row of ladies in their late 30s all wearing red headbands and t-shirts with cut-off sleeves - I'm not kidding) were up dancing and crowding the stage. The band took that time to slow it right down and everyone just kind of had to stand there until the next dancy kind of song came on. Maybe the band forgot how to read an audience (they say that memory is the first thing to go, after all).

Also, Mike was getting a little too Vegas on us. During the last song "Lovin' Every Minute of It" he got the audience to help sing some of the "whoas" and had gotten a decent level of participation and energy. He then brought it all to a screeching halt to do some really tedious talking and thanking us and wishing a band mate Happy Birthday, telling us they were off to California tomorrow, but he loved the Canadian audiences, etc. More talking, sang Happy Birthday. Made us sing Happy Birthday, made us sing it again, etc. etc. More lame talking, then back into the song to mercifully end it. Jesus. Lovin' every minute of it? More like squeezing every bit of life out of it.

But it wasn't a bad show, just a little boring in parts. Anyway, it was over at about 11:00 and we were free to go and gamble. We did so until my one roommate and I were too tired to stay in the loud smokefilled casino any more. I had gambled away my designated dollar amount and had had too much to drink. At about 2:30 she and I walked back up to our hotel room. We were on the way up and we passed Mike and some of the other bandmates on their way into the casino. As we passed I said, "good show, Mike" and he waved and said thanks. (By "good show", I meant that he could still hit the notes, I really didn't have time to go into all of the observations I've covered here). My roommate turned to me and said, "oh my god, I didn't even notice that was him. I thought he was just some old guy". I said, "he is" and we laughed and went up to bed.

We had lots of fun the next day talking about the band and how they all saw Mike that night at the casino, too. One of our party also said hello to him, although he said "hey! Brian Eno! Nice to see ya!" and couldn't figure out why Mike wasn't as nice to him. (I'm withholding names to protect the moronic.) Don't worry, we mercilessly teased him for it.

The next morning we went to one of the hotel restaurants for breakfast and we saw Mike again walking around the restaurant. My boyfriend said, "hey, I thought he was going to California today" and I said, "well, he's still got to eat. And eat and eat." We laughed. Then we got seated just behind their table so we had to can the mean, snarky comments.

Now, I know that attacking someone because they got fat is too easy and not very nice. I also know that the older you get the harder it is to lose weight because your metabolism changes. (It ain't like I don't know how much more difficult it is to maintain your weight once you get on in years, I am over 30.) And normally I wouldn't do it, but it's just too much fun to rib a guy who used to walk around like cock of the walk, wearing headbands and cut-off shirts, and who called his band Loverboy for christ's sake. It's fun to see how time and life has cut them down to size (in a manner of speaking, of course).

Anyway, that was our fun weekend. No one won any money, or at least not more than they put into the slot machines. But it was a really nice hotel and a fun little break from the monotony. And who knows? Maybe we'll go back in a few months to see The Bacon Brothers or Juice Newton. I can get my mean comments all ready before I go.

I've been waiting years to stick it to that Newton Broad. Yeah, nice first name, Juice. Orange you ashamed of it? Nice apple-lation. I'm sure if you concentrate enough you could think of a better one. Heheheheh... oh yeah, this should be fun...