The dilemma of a well-behaved Hanson fan when they play with the symphony

I am an unashamed Hanson fan. I can’t even call this a guilty pleasure because I feel no guilt. I never went to see Hanson in their prime because given the choice to take me to a Hanson concert or an NSYNC concert, my dad chose NSYNC. In the late 90s, that was arguably the better option of the two. One had sweet dance moves and a rad light show, and the other, um, didn’t. However, I have seen Hanson live multiple times, since I have been able to purchase my own tickets to the show… and alcohol from the bar. I have been of legal drinking age every time I’ve seen Hanson live. Once I did a shot at a Hanson show because I was still in college and responded very well to peer pressure. I immediately when to the bathroom and vomited because I don’t get along well with Jager.

Before you get all judge-y about my appreciation of the Hanson brothers, let me ask you something: Are you still living on money you made when you were a pre-teen? Didn’t think so. Shut it. Also, I dare you not to click on this.

Furthermore, they are all multi-instrumentalists who have been practicing their craft most of their lives. Rather than trying to live up to the level of fame of that song everyone knows, they kind of did whatever they wanted after the hysteria around their first album died off. There’s something to be said for staying true to yourself regardless of popularity and generally being good dudes. We’ll get to the charity work shortly.

Okay, wait a minute. Why am I justifying this? It’s reflex, I guess. Moving on.

Hanson’s latest project is called String Theory. They are touring the country and playing with elite symphony orchestras in various cities. I can only imagine the thrill the orchestra members felt when they found out the years they spent mastering their instruments would result in playing an orchestral arrangement of “Mmmbop” while women in their 30s lose their collective shit.

The music part was excellent. I wholeheartedly enjoyed it. But I don’t know how I felt about the display of poor behavior and buffoonery I witnessed in a SYMPHONY CONCERT HALL! Let’s catalog some of these things.

  • Many girls were dressed in club attire, tits fully on display, posing with their best duckface in front of the stage. Full disclosure, this was a Saturday night in Downtown Denver, so maybe they were actually going to one of LoDo’s finest establishments after the concert. Also, I don’t want this to come across as shaming of any woman’s choice of clothing. I generally believe that women should wear whatever the fuck makes the feel good, regardless of the opinions of others, but consider the venue. (Also, wait a few bullet points for criticism of mens’ attire.) I would also like to note that all the Hanson brothers are married and have children. No one is leaving their wife and kids for you despite what you wished for your life in the fanfic you wrote at 15. Put your tits away!
  • A man sitting two seats over from me who had to have been at least 40 yelled, “This is so much fun!” It was very loud. Everyone heard it. Even if it were appropriate to yell things in a venue like this, what a dumb thing to yell.
  • Up in the balcony, there was some sort of pelvic thrust dance happening to the tune of “Mmmbop” accompanied by the symphony. Maybe she thought she was already at the club? I’m not sure.
  • The ushers told exactly one person to put their phone away before completely giving up on that.
  • There was a mass rush toward the stage toward stage during the last two songs.
  • A man wore a backwards hat.
  • A man in a graphic tee and cargo shorts was accompanied by his family including a daughter wearing what I think was some sort of Pokémon hat that had ears on it.

Again, all of this in a SYMPHONY CONCERT HALL.

Am I a huge snob? Maybe the symphony knew exactly what they were signing up for, and I need to loosen the hell up. Maybe the symphony taking itself (a lot) less seriously for a night is a good thing. I mean, they have movie nights at the symphony on a regular basis where they play famous movie scores like Jurassic Park and Star Wars. It’s a good way to bring people in and open them up to a new experience. And of course, it’s a good way to bring in some money. At the same time, that type of behavior or attire in that venue for any normal symphony event would just not be okay. This is not just the venue allowing Hanson to play; this is the Colorado Symphony Orchestra’s house.

I went on field trips to the symphony when I was in school. We were always told to dress nicely and be on our best behavior. Don’t talk… or, uh, yell things. You treat the art and the work with respect. Did no one else have that experience?

This also isn’t the first time I’ve seen Hanson fans behave like assholes. A few years ago, I went to a show at the Bluebird Theater. They broke during their set to talk about their Take the Walk Campaign.

(For those of you unfamiliar with Hanson, which I assume is most you, Hanson use to invite fans to walk a mile with them, often barefoot, in order to raise awareness and money for various challenges plaguing many African countries.)

The oldest brother, Isaac, began speaking when someone in the crowd yelled, “Where were you?” Isaac then explained that he was talking with a friend on the phone who was starting cancer treatment, and that was the reason he did not attend. The crowd was silent and uncomfortable. Of course, whoever yelled in the crowd that night had no way of knowing, but maybe if they didn’t feel so entitled to the company of a Hanson brother, who is in fact a human being with human problems, they wouldn’t have said anything.

I don’t know what conclusion I’m trying to draw here, but it’s one of the following:

  • Hanson fans are dicks.
  • Take your damn kids to the symphony, and teach them how to behave and dress.
  • I’m a snob.

Can we talk about my night?

Just to set the tone- my job is a fiery hell scape of shit right now. Yes. Shit. Literal shit that is on fire surrounding me at all times is just about the appropriate analogy for my job right now. I left work in a garbage mood after a garbage day of fiery shit planning to go to yoga to maybe sweat out some of my bad attitude for the sake of all relationships that I care about in my life. I’ve been avoiding people because I’m seriously concerned my job is making me a big enough bitch that it may destroy relationships because I just FUCKING CAN’T RIGHT NOW.

Anywho, I got home, sat in a dark room for about 20 minutes, changed my clothes and started walking to class. I was about a block away when I decided to look at the schedule. I saw that the crazy power yoga guy was subbing again, and I REFUSE!!!!!!!!!!

I was going to walk back home, but I had enough time to get to a class at a different studio not too far away. I couldn’t walk there, but there was a Car2Go close by. I got to the car, got in, and started driving. I made it a few blocks, when I realized one of the tires was flat. I parked it immediately and called customer service while I walked home. I strongly considered having Taco Bell delivered via Postmates. That might be the true sign that one has given up. But since I am only one person, and I am a reasonable individual, I can’t possibly order enough Taco Bell to justify the Postmates delivery charges. I ordered Chinese instead. At least there are vegetables in that. Maybe that means there’s a glimmer of hope still inside me.

Now pardon me while I go scream into the abyss.

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An actual conversation

Me: I have a question and you’re not going to like my question.

Harrison: Okay.

Me: Have you clipped your toenails since we got back  from New York? (I noticed when we were visiting Harrison’s parents for Christmas that his toenails had reached an uncomfortable length.)

 HarrisonBlank stare

 Me: You’re going to stab the poor woman at the reflexology place. You stabbed me while you slept.

 Harrison: I don’t like the precedent we’re setting.

 Me: What precedent? That I have to remind you to clip your toenails?

 Harrison: I mean, why even get married? A transcript of this conversation should be our proof. (Internet- I’m providing proof that I’m basically married.)

 Later…

 Harrison: Now I have a question for you. When was the last time you took out the trash from your bathroom (yes, we have separate bathrooms) because it’s always overflowing.

 Me: You’re probably right.

We’re disgusting people, and I’m not sure when we’re going to stop living like we’re in college.

While you’re out there, I’ll be in here

Here are all the things I’ll be doing this weekend while everyone else is getting hammered in a crowded, shitty bar in face paint that is flaking off or wearing a costume five other people are also wearing.

 

  • Not waking up hungover.

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  • Yoga and maybe more yoga.

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  • Watching Will & Grace on Hulu. I’m on the last season.

  • Watching the new season of Stranger Things.

  • Reading a good book.

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  • Maybe I’ll watch Hocus Pocus. That movie’s rad.

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  • And basically not leaving my apartment except during daylight hours. Maybe.

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Happy weekend before Halloween. Be safe out there!

 

 

The best birthday gifts when you’re 30

I didn’t really have a formal birthday celebration this year. Part of the reason for this was that the dark cloud of November bled into the first part of December. Harrison’s grandmother passed away the day after he came back from visiting her, which was less than a week before my birthday. Harrison had to leave again pretty quickly for the funeral.

While he was gone, I did enjoy dinner and drinks with a few friends, I watched my sister try on wedding dresses (weird), and I took my sister to see Tig Notaro. Harrison bought the tickets as a birthday gift.

Harrison came back early the morning of my birthday. Of course he came ready to make the day all about me. He picked up breakfast on his way home, and he had more gifts he had been waiting to give me.

We spent the day doing the things we love together like Yin Yoga and artisan coffee. Spending a whole day together is something we don’t get to do much lately.

We saw a movie and had dinner with my parents. It was during our dinner conversation that I realized how much I have to be grateful for at 30. I have grandparents who are only in their 70s and are still in relatively good health. Harrison just lost his last grandparent at 27. I am very lucky. I have parents who are healthy and would have my back if I really needed them.

These are the best gifts as we all move deeper into this shit show we know as adulthood- things we’ve always taken for granted. Maybe it was the lack of any formal celebration that helped me to see with more clarity that the best gift is time spent or the ability to still spend time with those we care about.

Addendum:

I have no idea if I’m using “Addendum” correctly, by the way.

I went to the doctor the day after my birthday. I already had the day off, and I needed to renew my birth control prescription. This is VERY important. I went in preparing myself to be violated with a metal or plastic tool resembling a duck’s beak, but then my doctor said, “I looked at your results from last year, and it was normal, so we don’t need to do a pap this year unless you want to.”

Serious question- Who would respond to this with, “Yes, please. I would very much like you to fondle my lady-bits for medical purposes?” NO ONE WOULD!

I sent Harrison a text when I left thanking him for not giving me HPV… although it’s more surprising that I didn’t get it from one of the idiots who preceded him.

My doctor did want to do a breast exam. Fine. Necessary. Important. While, she was feeling around my boobies, she also had her head cocked to the side to read the tattoo on my rib cage. I love that tattoo, so I was happy to discuss it…while lying on my back…arm overhead…her hand to my tits. I can’t decide if it would have been more weird if we had been silent.

She also wanted to do blood work and look at all my “levels.” A couple days later, I got a phone call that went like this:

Medical Assistant: Hi, I’m calling from Dr. Leopold’s office. I have your results if you have a sec.

Me: Ok.

MA: So she wanted to do a full panel and check your liver, kidney function, cholesterol… all of that.

Me: Ok.

MA: Everything’s normal.

Me: That it?

MA: Yep.

Me: Ok. Thank you.

It was a lot of build-up for normal. On that note, I will say that I am incredibly grateful for my health.

Bring it on 3rd decade.

I don’t usually remember my dreams, but when I do…

I’d be really cool with it if I remembered 0% of my dreams because on the rare occasion that I do remember my dreams, I wonder what in holy hell is wrong with my brain. It ruins my day.

Once I dreamt that I broke up with Harrison for a guy I work with and we lived in a house that resembled something one might see on Hoarders, and there were lots of cats. I imagine excessive cat keeping is also something that happens on Hoarders. Everything in my dream looked a little bit brown, like my whole dream was in sepia tone. Now, this makes no sense for a few reasons. First of all, thanks but no thanks on the dipping of my pen in the company ink. And second, this particular fellow is allergic to cats. It would never work.

Another time, I dreamt that Harrison went to jail for something horrible. Harrison really gets screwed over in my dreams. What the hell, subconscious?

I blame Ghostbusters for last night’s bizarro nightmare. I had a dream that a paranormal entity had invaded my house and tried to inhabit the bodies of my cats for purposes of cat murder. I had to protect them in my dream because no one (dead or alive apparently) messes with Miles and Billie. Do you have any idea how hard it was to leave for work this morning? They were all alone all day, probably hiding from evil cat killing ghosts.

And that is why it would be fine if I remembered exactly none of my dreams.

P.S. Totally see Ghostbusters because there are four hilarious and amazing women in it. I hope you do not have weird dreams about pet possession like I did.

 

 

My relationship is really a prison of judgment

Me: Can you get me a La Croix (pronounced La Crotch, which is what my co-workers decided on since no one seems to know how to actually pronounce this) out of the fridge?

Harrison: Ugh, I don’t know if I like that (meaning how I pronounce the brand of delicious sparkling water). Are you up to like three of these a day now?

Me: So? It’s zero calories.

Harrison: The only thing you’ve done more than drink these is watch this show. (He’s talking about the almost 4 whole seasons of Billy on the Street I’ve watched this week.)

Me: That won’t be the case much longer because I’m almost done with it. Also, they’re short episodes, and there’s only like 10 episodes a season.

Harrison is really judgmental.

P.S. I bet someone will judge my relationship based on the contents of this post. It’s a never-ending cycle.