the show itself sort of sucked—even Michael thought so—but i was less frustrated with Eddie's self-indulgent performance than i was with the crowd. i have this thing lately where i can't stand most people in this city. i don't like feeling that way, it's totally non-productive and a little depressing. but it's like the more i look around, the more i see a bunch of fake, clueless, phony baloney people. they all strike me as caricatures—of the kind of people they think live in New York City—and bad imitations of characters they've seen on television or in the movies.
i don't know why i find this so distressing.
anyway, last night people were getting hammered on small plastic cups of bad beer that cost $7 and high on joints that were being passed around the theater. when we first sat down, the opening act was just finishing up and thank god we hadn't sat down any sooner. there were two people on stage, a guy and a girl, and they were screaming into a mic and spazzing around on stage as if they were being continually struck by lightning or poked with something sharp in their rear ends.
the audience loved it.
it only got worse when Eddie finally came out. he sang a lot of (bad) political songs and at one point told the crowd he wasn't going to share who he'll be voting for this fall—"i'm keeping my politics to myself," he said. then right on cue, stagehands walked behind him holding up a big Obama banner, which sent the audience into a frenzy.
ugh, like half of them even know what Obama is about! as Michael said afterward, "they probably won't even remember to vote."
and speaking of afterward—as we were leaving our seats, an older woman came tumbling down the balcony stairs as we passed by. Michael bent down to help her but her shoes had no traction so he was really just pulling her along as her butt dragged across the (sticky, filthy) floor. she finally got herself up and he asked her if she was all right. "of course i'm all right," she replied, though her words were heavily slurred. yeah, sure you are, lady.
we finally got out of the theater and were soon standing on the platform at 175th, waiting for the A with almost everyone who'd just been at the show. i noticed a woman standing nearby with a group of guys. she was drinking a Coors 40 in a paper bag (doesn't get much classier) and smoking a cigarette. on the platform. i heard her start a conversation with a stranger: "were you just at the show? yeah, wasn't it amazing?"
and again, this filled me with a mix of anger and hopelessness. i wanted to shake her by the shoulders and scream, "are you for real? do you even know where you are right now?"
yeah, i know. something is seriously wrong with me. i'm trying not to lose faith in humanity, i swear. but it didn't help that the first thing i heard on the news this morning was that Paris Hilton had made a short film responding to the fact that John McCain used her image in his anti-Obama ad. and that she'd discussed both the energy crisis and choosing Rhianna as her running mate. while lounging in a cut-out leopard print bathing suit.
you can't tell me the country isn't going to hell just a little bit when Paris Hilton is even remotely involved in the most important presidential election we've had in decades.
we're so screwed.
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