Can you hear me now? Oh yes.
Dear George Clinton,
Thank you for a great show Sunday night at the Buckhead Theatre. While I was giving up the funk, some questions came up:
- Where does one find the sparkly mother-of-the-bride tunic you were wearing?
- Is this tunic available at the same place where this accountant-by-day found these pants?
- Does your concert rider specifically request a swivel desk chair for your onstage breaks? (Note that I do not begrudge you your breaks. I know you are 76. I’m just asking about the chair. I think you need something more befitting a legend such as yourself, Dr. Funkenstein. A throne, maybe.)
- Why do you need 55 people on stage? Only 16 were singing or playing an instrument. The others were taking selfies and videos.
- How many songs did you actually play? I know that you started around 9 and by 9:25 you had only played two. I do love that you give the audience their money’s worth. And I can’t say that I wasn’t warned.
- Why was Santa in this South Town audience? Don’t you perform any farther north (or any closer to Christmas)? Shine the spotlight on him to help him find the funk. (Or am I missing something?)
- Why can’t music be the conduit to end racism and other social ills? Your audience was made up of black, white, old, young, straight, gay, North Pole residents, Atlanta residents — all smooshed butt to back. We were having a party, y’all.
Still feeling supergroovalistic, thanks!
Beth
Observe and report 
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