I have to admit, this entire Air Supply concert on Wednesday night fascinates me in the same way that car wrecks cause everyone to slow down on an expressway. It’s one thing to try to envision what it is like to see Air Supply in concert on Valentine’s Day. I mean, how do you spring that on your significant other? “Hey baby, for our special day let’s go see a vaguely popular band from the early 80’s. No, not the one with the guy who always wore a headband. That’s Foreigner.” Add that to the fact that the show is in a casino that, and I’m not making this up, decided to stay open this week after a chemical plant exploded one mile away sending potentially toxic smoke into the air. I’m pretty sure that if I sprung this on my Canadian girlfriend it would be grounds for a breakup.
(Luckily, that’s not an option for me given that she is in Vancouver and all. What? No, I’m not making her up. Why would you think that?)
But this is what just blows my mind about this whole Air Supply thing. I wrote this same spiel in the blog last year because they had the exact same concert. Yes, this is the second straight year of Air Supply playing a Valentine’s Day gig in Kansas City. This means that not only did the show sell enough tickets last year to warrant a return trip but they are now trying to turn this into a tradition. There aren’t many traditions in Kansas City besides celebrating the Royals elimination from playoff contention in mid-May and, well, this isn’t one that I would try to pin my civic pride on. Again, part of me wants to go to show because it has the possibility of being the most unintentionally funny thing I’ll see all year. It also could be the most depressing event of the year, which will probably lead me to just hang around a bar and paying for my bar tab by answering trivia questions.
Staying on the relationship front, I read this stat today that interested me. It said that 55 percent of men had made a mix CD as a romantic gesture. First off, I was actually surprised that it was that low. For some reason I expected that this was just standard procedure. But what interests me more is what they didn’t ask in this survey, which is whether or not this romantic gesture actually worked or not. My feeling is that this number is a hell of a lot less than 55 percent and probably explains why a portion of the male population is smart enough not to make mix tapes. Maybe this is just my experience, which given the fact that my mix CDs tend to be met with reactions like “Please don’t ever speak to me again” and “We really should be talking through our lawyers” might not be typical. (Though for some reason those reactions always come with phrases like “By the way, where did you find out about Sufjan Stevens? His stuff is awesome.”)
On that note, I’m going to take an early night from the blog so I can sit back and watch Before Sunset one more time. I might be a cynical bastard a lot of the time but I sure like to think that one day I’ll have the girl of my dreams magically reappear into my life while I’m on a book tour. And if she looks surprisingly like Julie Delpy and plays guitar I would definitely miss my plane back to the States.
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