So last night I went to a small venue concert of Christian Kane without a chaperon. It was up in Portland at Dante's on 3rd and Burnside. Not the greatest neighborhood, but is there really any place that there isn't a present danger of some kind?
I almost didn't go. I couldn't find anyone to go with me, probably due to the holiday weekend. Except for Sonja. I knew she wouldn't go. Due to the fact that she would have punched someone in the face. That's why I love her.
So after a mostly uneventful drive up there, (I got stuck in a little bit of post OSU Beaver traffic around Corvallis..) I found the place right away thanks to Google and my supreme sense of direction. Shut up, Sonja.
After driving around the same few blocks a couple of times, I finally found a parking spot only a block away. And I was lucky enough that it was in front of a higher end Italian restaurant and not in front of the nude bar advertising "Full Friction Lap Dances!". Ew, just doesn't cut it here folks.
I arrived about two hours before the doors were to open. I hate being late and in a hurry for shit, so I like to have a big cushion of time. (Again, shut up, Sonja.) I think that my "time cushion", was a primary reason why I was not stressed out while looking for a place to park, or even later on.
I had noticed when I first drove by that there was already a small line forming near the door, but was I didn't notice until I got right up to it was the size of the people in the line. Now I am not one to make fun of people for there weight or whatever. Hell, I have no room to talk at all. But....
There was something strange going on here. Walking up to the line, I suddenly felt, well....svelte. Positively thin. Remarkably in shape. Dare I say....healthy? And with my track record with the MS and all that, I was willing to take what I could get. Anyway, Christian Kane seems to have a very large fan base. Literally.
You know how Cher and Barbara Streisand seem to have a large gay following? Well, Christian has a following of "big, beautiful" women. Shit you not. They are some kind of club or something. I asked.
So these twelve woman had been to every, single show of his this summer (five I think) and as soon as they got in the door they commandeered the front stage area and never moved. It was standing room only so they were all standing flush up against the stage edge, side by side, boobs most likely propped up on the stage like a shelf displaying the season's melons. It was a sight to behold. Sort of. Kind of like a bad car wreck. Anyhoo...
While the opener's were doing their thing, I wandered around and bumped into Aldis Hodge. He is my second favorite character on the show, Leverage. He's very nice, and hit super hot girlfriend was surprisingly nice too.
When Christian finally started his show, it got a little crazy with the "Ton o' Fun Girls". But the security that was only slightly bigger that the biggest club member, made sure that there was no stampede and if eventually calmed down a bit.
I staked out a small 24" x 24" little country of my own on the floor (I named it Kimberlyland) about six feet from the stage, behind two layers of thankfully short people. I did this by lying about having to go to the toilet and squeezing through the crowd until I was right in the middle.
Everybody was pretty polite about not invading my tiny bubble of me-ness, except one. I wish this woman could really know just how close she came to having her $1000 camera with the super, duper zoom lens crammed into her face. First of all, seriously? You are about seven feet away from the stage. Do we really need to see the reflection of the lights off the tiny dew drop of sweat on Christian's chest? Ok probably. But still. Do you have to be a bitch about it?
Did you have to poke me on the shoulder (Yeah, she actually touched me on purpose.), to tell me in a shitty tone that she was trying to film the band? I told her to look around. Everybody in the crowd had cameras and cell phones held up in the air. It was literally a sea of arms with camera's attached to them. She looked at me, looked at her camera that was also probably a Transformer in another life, and I shit you not... said, "But mine will be a better film than theirs. Especially if you get out of the way."
I am proud to say, I turned my back to her and said not another word. When she yelled, "Down in front!", to a chick in front of her who's only trespass was that she was waving her arms to the music, I still said not one word. For someone who once wrapped the long hair of some buckle bunny's around my arm to drag her out of my way at a Chris LeDoux concert at a rodeo, I personally was impressed with my self restraint. Of course, I didn't have Prozac back then either.
I also cared too much back then, if I spilled my beer. Oops, sorry about your camera.