Fortunately November 27th, 2016 was part of a two-night run, lest I might have wasted a trip. Also fortunate: m’lady was not at all upset about my overtly drunken behaviour at the show the night before (for details see psychological report #112616), a tactical error that led to a self-inflicted truncated concert experience for yours truly.
I had spent the afternoon licking my wounds at a matinee Cirque du Soleil performance on Randall’s Island that was strong enough to propel me into a blissful suspension of reality that managed to salve my soul at least long enough to get me in the door of the wonderful Capitol Theatre in Port Chester, New York where a cleansing evening of rock and roll angst at the hands of the mighty Ween might just take care of the rest.
In a meek stab at redemption I spent the evening sober…might I have even shunned the free shuttle and driven from the hotel to the theatre? Band-aid on a severed limb, but still. I remember being on the floor just a dozen feet from the nearest bar, which I kept my back to and when the band hit the stage they immediately rewarded me by opening with one of their bestest live songs, Buckingham Green, second only to their epic Voodoo Lady, which came about a half-dozen songs later. I was able to further purge my demons singing along to Ween’s scream-therapy number You F***ed Up whilst lifting my clenched fists upwards towards the dancing dome of coloured Boognishes that flashed on the planetarium-like ceiling. But really, it was the Mushroom Festival in Hell->I Play it Off Legit->Pollo Asado->Ice Castles slap in the face midset that finally set me right.
After that, the rest of the set was a breeze. So was the drive home the next day. Thanks Ween, I’m lucky to have you.