Monday, August 24, 2015

Socks in the Frying Pan

Despite the unpleasant images (or aromas) that title may cause you to conjure up, Reader Dear, the Irish band that carries that name is terrific!  The three guys with their Irish names and Irish accents and  their Irish singing and playing kept me mesmerized all evening!  It was, of course, another Sunday concert at the park.

The Small Actor, who also happened to be in attendance yesterday evening, agreed to go with me to the stage for a close-up view.  No sooner had we settled ourselves in the grass than a couple of dancers--a dancing couple, as it were--showed up to rearrange our view.  But they didn't do anything to mess with the sound, so it was all good! 

Later (you know, after dark), when Sean (only band member whose name I can spell) suggested that everyone in the audience light up the night with their cell phones, it was...ahhh...a magical moment!

At concert end, and on the way home, I had to try real hard
to keep my mouth shut.*
*The Yard Man has such an aversion to moaning and
bellyaching about a concert season being almost over...argh, only one more concert...and, gosh, I wish I'd have grown up dancing...and, oh, why can't there be concerts at the park all year...and well...**

**perhaps you aren't very keen on those kinds of
expressions yourself, Dear Reader...***


1 comment:

sk said...

Boy! Their music!