I am my mother’s only one
— justin vernon
our favorite musician o’ week at work is a guy who records under the name Bon Iver. Justin Vernon, his real name, is in a word brilliant. or in three words really, really brilliant. so i was psyched (that’s how the kids talk) that he is performing a concert right down the street — until i saw the ticket prices:
Tuesday, Sep 29 8:00 pm
Mesa Arts Center, Mesa, Az.
Price: $86 – $141
i’m not a total cheapskate, but i’ve heard rumors that there’s a recession out there. i’m not paying $86 for the BAD seats at a concert unless it’s a Beatles reunion with all four Beatles. and Bob Dylan has to return from the dead to sit in with them. (what? dylan’s not dead?) Come to think of it, Dylan played with the Band, not the Dead. and the key member of the Dead is dead. causing the Dead to disband. but not the Band. wait. i think the Band IS dead. but you get the idea. sigh.
although i sulked for a couple of days, the healing process had finally began. then came the email from my brother in West Texas:
“$2 concert?We should move to Marfa immediately. If you attract a mere
50 audience members per night, that would be, wait…let me calculate…..$50!”
Thursday 1 October 2009
The Crowley Theater
Doors 8pm, Show 9 pm
Tickets $2 available now or at the door
yes, he’s a journalist and not a mathematician. and he’s now at an advanced age that doesn’t allow him to follow music as closely as he did back in the Loving Spoonful days. so when he attached the ad for Bon Iver playing for TWO DOLLARS in Marfa, a little Texas town that we knew as a stepping stone to the wilderness until it somehow became an arts mecca for parisians and new yorkers and other foreigners, i’m sure he didn’t realize how great this concert will be and the torment it would bestow upon me that i’m missing it.
or maybe he did. this is the same brother who constantly made up words during our Scrabble days as lads. unless, of course, QXA#R^ is actually a word. *
so i grow up in music-deprived West Texas before finally moving to the Big City. now music-deprived West Texas gets to see the show of my dreams for $2, while i’m asked to pay $141, roughly the worth of my trusty ’88 honda (and lord knows what the final ticket price is after convenience fee, internet sales fee, printing cost, handling fee and special Tuesday Concert Surtax.)
on the bright side … oh, there is no bright side. life sucks.
* during a recent visit, a woman alleging to be my niece inquired about my knowledge of my brother’s mysterious “Official Scrabble Dictionary.” apparently many of the words in it are handwritten. he assures her they are merely amendments the company has made over the years. i don’t play Scrabble with him anymore.