I properly prepared my house in the off chance that there would be strays hanging at my house either before the show at the Ken Club or after. To me, that translates to dusting, vacuuming, straightening up the bathroom, putting out the recycling, doing my dishes, and loading the fridge with an 18 pack of Budweiser bottles, and an 18 pack of MGD (because I like to see if the choices make a difference), and a bottle of Makers and Smirnoff.
Matt called and came over. We had a couple drinks before we headed to the bar. We got there while the opening band was playing but never really made it over to catch them. Then there were drinks to be had, friends to see, and before we knew it, a few of us had to head back to my house to use the bathroom to avoid the line (and the messes) at the Ken. So we did...came to my house, had more drinks (and shots) and by the time we made it back, we'd missed Roses On Her Grave (sorry, Nate.)
I was a few drinks in and went to the bar to order a drink. I didn't think any of the bartenders noticed me standing there, but suddenly Jeff and Rob both presented me with my usual drink. "Uh, can I have a pint glass?" Suddenly I'm paying for both drinks and pouring them into a pint glass. Apparently, this created the illusion to my friends that I was drinking water. In my head I knew I was drinking 90 proof water.
I didn't go to the Ken Club with the intention of taking pictures, but get my blood a little thin, and even with my point and shoot, suddenly I think I'm a mega photog and I went a little crazy. Fortunately the band had their own lighting and other peeps were taking pics, too, so hopefully I didn't ruin anyone's night by being the chick with a camera, but damn...I took a lot of pictures.
Transfer was amazing as always, but this show seemed particularly special because the band was leaving to England less than 36 hours later. In a way, maybe not to everyone, but I felt this feeling that our little secret was getting out...that Transfer is on their way across the pond and maybe when they come back they'll be too big to play the Ken Club again. Or they will play here again, but it will be some huge deal and there won't be any space to move in the bar that I call home. Or maybe that's what I hope will happen...I'm not really sure. But the band rocked it and I had a great night at the Ken Club. Here's evidence that the band did, too. (and they didn't punch me for the 100+ flashes of my camera)
After that double drink, there were more shots and tons of random craziness at the bar and outside. So many friends there, and I met so many people, and I was glad to be in the safety of "home". Thank God I didn't have to control myself in any way and I took full advantage of the night.
A while back, someone made some shirts for the Ken Club, I guess in hopes that Brett would want to sell Ken Club merch; I was lucky enough to get one (albeit two sizes too big) and the shirts seem to capture and relish the hate that some people feel for the bar with a slogan: "Ken Club- Always Pouring Controversy". They made a special one for Rob, in his Raiders colors, and I couldn't resist taking a picture of it.
After the show it was time to meander back home. I offered up the after party but everyone was going to Nate's. I opted to stick in the 'hood and walked home.
As I did, I noticed a couple guys across the street from my place, hanging out with a bottle of Jaeger. I'm always up to meeting neighbors, so I did the neighborly thing and grabbed three Buds from my fridge and joined them across the street. After a while talking, I learned that they lived a couple blocks away and after being silly in the street (they put signs in the middle of the street and laughed as cars drove around or turned down the block to avoid the signs entirely), I convinced them that they'd soon be arrested if they didn't quit their antics, and I invited them over.
Now believe me, at this point I was buzzed but not out of it, and my guard was up. I wasn't just bringing anyone over, but these guys were in the military and proud of it. Being the uber lefty liberal that I am, I don't get the chance to talk to military dudes, so I took this opportunity to talk and rant and listen and I really learned a lot from talking to a couple guys who soon will be shipped off to Iraq, to gain some perspective and opinion and fret over the lives lost and the fight that is being fought and they were cool to indulge me. We hung out far beyond sunrise, messing around on MySpace, watching bad tv, and me introducing them to my indie music while they wondered why I'm not into their country music. Call it "reaching across the aisle".
Anyway, all in all it turned out to be a really spectacular night. A night that didn't end until well beyond 10 am. A night that meant there was no way I was making it to the Polish festival with my family. A night that gave me a better appreciation for an amazing hometown band, a better appreciation for my Ken Club family, and a better understanding why two twenty-somethings have to fight and pretend to believe in a war that they don't actually believe in, an understanding why people don't vote ("Doesn't matter who wins, he's our Commander in Chief and we have to go where we're sent either way".)
I crawled into bed and appreciated once again the beauty of one thousand count cotton sheets and couldn't help but think about all the guys out in the middle of nowhere, fighting for something nobody will ever understand, laying on dirt, and if I believed in God, I'd say I'm blessed, but I don't, so I'll just call it luck. Or something.
Get that perspective much? Probably not. Being an insomniac clearly has its advantages.