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Posts Tagged ‘Out of the house’

Dear Music Fans,

I’ve been on a roll lately — getting out of the house and saying yes to live music. I have thoughts about performances and venues, because of course I do.

And you’re here, because I guess you want to read them.

Acts: The Breeders with Team Dresch
Venue: Pioneer Courthouse Square
Highlight: “Cannonball” by The Breeders

I’m an OG fan of The Pixies. Kim Deal was the key ingredient for their early success. Black Francis needs her, even though his ego thinks he doesn’t. When she started The Breeders, I knew there was room in my heart for both bands.

But like The Pixies, The Breeders can be hit or miss. For every “Cannonball,” there’s a “Hag.” (For every “Wave of Mutilation,” there’s a “Hey.”)

As for the venue, I was concerned about an outdoor space in downtown Portland at the end of summer. I was worried for nothing. It was the perfect temp and size. There were places to stand and places to sit (on steps, until some jackass spilled his entire beer). The acoustics were top-notch. Ravens flew overhead. The stars were out.

The people watching was spectacular. Young and old turned out. I did not realize this, but The Breeders fan base skews lesbian — a fact Team Dresch, also out and proud, noted repeatedly.

They were great, by the way. Never heard of them, but they are from Washington and have been around a while apparently.

The Breeders put on a fun show and had plenty of energy. Kim sounded fantastic, and we all got out of there at 9:30 p.m. on a school night.

Team Dresch: B+
The Breeders: A-

Acts: Squeeze with Adam Ant and Haircut 100
Venue: Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall
Highlight: “Goodbye Girl” by Squeeze

I know what you are going to say: “You said you’d never see Adam Ant again.”

I know.

But he was sandwiched between a band I had seen before and loved (Squeeze) and one I hadn’t and wanted to (Haircut 100).

I figured I could go get a drink if it was that bad.

It wasn’t so bad that I had to escape to the lobby, but it wasn’t great. Adam was more ambulatory than the last time, but his voice was … um … not where one might want it to be for paying customers. And he’s still wearing the same stupid outfit he’s been wearing for seven years — down to Aunt Maude’s best Sunday church hat.

Please stop.

On the other end of the spectrum, Haircut 100 had plenty of energy and put on a great show. Squeeze did too. Difford and Tilbrook have still got it. They sounded the same, and played all the hits.

They also played “Trixies,” a concept album they wrote in 1974 when concept albums were de rigueur.

They played this album right in the middle of their set.

You know how a mattress sags in the middle in a cheap motel?

Yeah.

Everyone just sat down — which is frankly what I thought the middle-aged audience would be doing the whole time anyway. I mean, Arlene is a bougie old gal. We all had plush assigned seats.

After the shock wore off, boredom set in. I might have taken a nap. My concert-mate Jason got antsy and warm (Arlene had a hot flash) and roamed off.

Finally, they pulled up the Trixies sign and kicked back off with “Hourglass.” Everyone got back up and started dancing again as if the last 40 minutes had never happened.

Jason and I never want to hear about loose women at Trixies again.

Haircut 100: B+
Adam Ant: D
Squeeze: A- (without Trixies); C (with Trixies factored in)

Acts: Rob Zombie with Orgy, The Hu and Marilyn Manson
Venue: Cascades Amphitheater
Highlight: “This is Mongol” by The Hu

Sometimes you have to say “Yes” to adventures. Jason and I were last-minute tagalongs on Gerard and Jesse’s date to see this lineup. Marilyn Manson is a trash person, but I was interested in the rest.

As it turns out, the singer for Orgy might be trash too — so much so that sources say they got kicked off the tour before the prior show.

Lawn seats at the amphitheater were reasonable, but we nearly needed to take out personal loans for the rest. Want a beer? That’s $25. A Rob Zombie tank top? $50. A burger, fries and soft drink? Also $50.

I would have paid more to see The Hu, though. They are REMARKABLE. I don’t even have the words to describe their sound or energy. They use a horse head electric fiddle played upright, for God’s sake!

Next was Manson. The music is good, not gonna lie. I hate that I like it. But I wasn’t there for him … and his dead swan.

In addition to pissing off birds everywhere, he angered the crowd by screaming “Portland” after every song. The amphitheater is in Ridgefield, Washington.

I also wasn’t there for his nightmare-inducing bassist.

Liza Minnelli Manson and whatever that is

I killed time by discussing the Clancy case via text with Dominic and also convincing him to start listening to The Hu immediately.

Rob was next, but there was a significant set change. There also was a significant temperature drop. Though I had been mocked by someone I will not name for bringing a jacket, I was glad to have it.

Rob started off strong with “F.T.W. 84” and “Tarantula.” The set was indeed elaborate. He was very funny, but said something alarming: Rob said there were 17,000 people in attendance.

Um.

That meant 17,000 people leaving at the same time if we all stayed to the end.

Spoiler: We did not hear “Dragula” live.

We skedaddled during “Feel So Numb.” To be honest, he sounded out of breath. He is 61 after all.

At least we weren’t from running to the car to beat the rush. And we made it back to actual Portland in no time.

Orgy: 0
The Hu: A+
Marilyn Manson: B (for sound); F (for the person delivering it)
Rob Zombie: B (partial credit)

What’s next? What’s left of the Sex Pistols in Denver. I’m sure I’ll have opinions (because of course I do.)

Love and kisses,
Beth

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Dear Andrea,

Most guests who visit my condo in Atlanta make very little impression on me. I remember maybe one out of 10. If I remember them, it’s usually for a not-so-great reason.

I’ll remember you.

Why?

Because you made my eyes roll so hard I saw my own brain.

Here’s your review:

I’m going to address each item as objectively as possible.

  1. Built in 1962 by the C.D. Spangler Construction Company, Peachtree Towers was the tallest residential building in Atlanta when it opened and was the first residential building in the center of the city. It’s not new construction. If you want a new building with that new building smell, go somewhere else.
  2. It is a condo building with 330 units, so yes, I guess it will feel like a hotel. 🤷🏻‍♀️
  3. You can’t have a “bargain place” and also luxury linens and pillows. Pick an experience, Andrea. You are paying half the price of a hotel.
  4. There is less than a foot of space between the back of the chair in the living room and the wall/edge of the window. Why are you trying to walk back there? There is NO REASON for that!
  5. The only dresser in the flat is in the bedroom and does not have “tons of little drawers.” So I asked:

No, Andrea. Just no. First, it’s sad and shocking that you’ve never seen a card catalog before. Second, I’m not going to get rid of it for more suitcase storage (what?!). Third, there is AMPLE room on either side of it (five feet at least) for your damn suitcases.

Also, Andrea, please do a better job in the future of picking places that are suited to your needs.

If you want a new building, choose one.

If you want a luxury experience, choose it.

If you want a child-friendly place with pack ‘n’ plays and other baby amenities, choose one. Don’t ask a host to supply them when the host has clearly stated these items are not provided.

(During that exchange, I even said, “I understand if you need to cancel.” Frankly, I wish you had.)

I hope you made it home safely.

I’d say it was a pleasure to host you, but …

At least I got a good story out of it. So thanks.

Best wishes and warmest regards,
Beth

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Dear Organizers of the Georgia State Banana Pudding Festival:

As soon as I found out about this festival and realized it coincided with the day my son Dominic and I planned to drive from Atlanta to Savannah, I knew it was on the agenda.

I’ve been to many festivals and fairs. I have expectations. I can manage those expectations depending on the scope of the venture. Claxton Rattlesnake Roundup? It’s an annual, small-town, lookie-loo event. No expectations. McMinnville UFO Festival? Bigger event with a parade and a weekend of planned speakers. Higher expectations.

The banana pudding festival appears to be an annual state event with enough social media presence to get on the radar of someone in Oregon.

I had expectations.

I did not expect to wait 20 minutes on a two-lane road to be directed into a field to park — one of three, all off this same two-lane road.

I did not expect to wait another 30 minutes in line to pay a $10 entry fee. (Who charges an entry fee at a festival like this?!)

I did not expect to wait another hour in line to pay $10 to sample banana pudding along the “Puddin’ Path.”

This is the line for the Puddin’ Path.
Dominic is so happy to finally be able to eat some pudding.

What — and I mean this sincerely — the fuck?!

One hour and $10 to sample eight versions of banana pudding, two of which were inedible? [One was “sourdough” (What? No. Stop.), and one was pecan praline (so sweet that I immediately contracted diabetes).]

And that’s it. Those eight samples equaled the only banana pudding available at the Georgia State Banana Pudding Festival.

You are deeply unserious festival planners. Clearly.

So what did our entry fee get us?

A vendors fair with all manner of offerings, including “sassy sewing.”
A variety of wood creations and whatnot for sale.
A few people with festival spirit.
Hate crimes in merch form.
An obstacle course driven by a blindfolded tractor driver.
The ability to take this photo.

Not pictured: the 30-minute line for two porta-potties. Yes: TWO.

Also not pictured: The person running for Secretary of State who talked to us about his immigration stance, assuming we had the same political beliefs. Sir, I’m not your target audience, for a variety of reasons.

You know what WAS worth it: Spending this time with Dominic grousing about how lame your festival was. We are two of a kind and ended up having a great time.

So thanks. I guess.
Beth

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Dear Trump (aka Tacolini):

I was at your birthday “party.” It was an accident, believe me. I booked a flight months ago to go to Washington, D.C., for a conference. It was only a couple of weeks ago that I realized I’d be flying in on the day of your vanity parade.

What a waste of taxpayer money. It’s as bad as your weekly golf trips.

Yet we can’t afford cancer research, SNAP benefits, Medicaid, an HIV vaccine, etc.

Sure. 🙄

Anyway.

I’m staying up near DuPont Circle, which was a ghost town. I assumed it was because everyone was still at a No Kings protest or at your thing.

Maybe the former, but certainly not the latter. Admittedly, I got there near the end. (Yes, I went because I’m nosy).

I expected to see a whole bunch of your acolytes. I saw maybe three obvious ones and a couple I suspect.

Maybe these folks? 🤷🏻‍♀️

It seemed … poorly attended. I thought I must be missing something. I had a look at social media to see.

Oooh. That’s got to sting.

Oh, yes. Look at you:

Sour Puss next to Whiskey Pete, the DUI hire

It couldn’t happen to a worse person. I hope you had a terrible day. Sorry, not sorry.

I have never liked you. That’s never been a secret. You are everything people teach their kids not to be: greedy, petty, vindictive, boastful, willfully ignorant, etc.

And your policies actively hurt most people and help only very rich people.

[For people who say I have Trump Derangement Syndrome, and my life is better because of Trump, you can f—- all the way off. I know my life, and it was made worse by this idiot’s policies the first time (taxes, work experiences), and already this second time (work repercussions).]

I mean, look at you already backing off your immigration stance.

It’s only because you realized it was hurting your wealthy friends who employ undocumented workers.

As I was walking around, I was pleased to see a few things, such as these lightpost signs:

And then, I saw this:

Awww. So much empty.

There was a significant police presence, but not enough humans around to justify.

I heard some sirens and noise, so I followed the sound and found some people leaving the Washington Monument area.

It was a mix of people leaving the parade plus leftover No Kings. Then I went down the block a bit.

Some chanting, that’s it. Peaceful protest.

I was wearing my “Maybe today, Satan” shirt, but I did not get involved. Frankly, in my heart I know not ACAB, but I saw what enforcement folks did to reporters and regulars in L.A. I have a conference to attend, and I can’t do it from the hospital or jail.

Maybe. Maybe not.

So I left, and I ate a lovely dinner at Nando’s. Did NOT raise a glass to you.

I hope you are miserable knowing that millions of people turned out in cities large and small in the U.S. and abroad to protest you and all those who enable you — your junk drawer of a “Cabinet,” the spineless sycophants in Congress, your donors, and anyone who voted for you and still supports you.

I hope you had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

With no regards,
Beth

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Dear Friends and Family,

This time last week, I was on a cruise. I didn’t pay the exorbitant fee for ship WiFi, and I was thus blissfully unaware of Leon and his band of Hitler youth interns hijacking the Treasury. Among other things. 🙄

Oh those halcyon days!

Anyway.

What kind of cruise?

Chris Jericho’s Rock ‘n’ Wrestling Rager at Sea.

Listen: I grew up in Georgia. Y’all know I’m a redneck.

Wrestling was a part of my childhood. Dusty Rhodes, the American Dream, was like kin. One of my first crushes was Robert Fuller, whose tag-team partner was Ted DiBiase, the Million Dollar Man.

All Elite Wrestling is the best. It’s far superior in storylines to World Wrestling Entertainment. It’s like a soap opera featuring sweaty men. And one of the best characters is Chris Jericho. He understands the assignment.

Jericho is on the right wearing a onesie featuring cats and tacos.

Jericho also fronts one of my favorite bands: Fozzy. Fozzy performed on the cruise, along with a bunch of other bands.

Wrestling AND rock music? It’s the perfect combo for me. I’ve been wanting to go on this cruise for years.

Pre-trip, people would ask where the ship was going. I answered, “I don’t know. I don’t care.” Turns out: Puerto Plata, DR. Fine. I was there for what was happening on the Norwegian Gem.

In addition to Fozzy, the lineup featured the return of Great White. Yes, THAT Great White. They have a new singer. He’s very talented and VERY young. Was DEF not alive during the band’s first go ‘round.

The singer bears a striking resemblance to 20-hour Tina’s daughter Elsa.

Others: Kuarantine (another Jericho-fronted band, this one focused on KISS covers of the no-makeup years), Guardians of the Jukebox (all covers), Excitable (a Def Leppard tribute band), Nocturnal Affair (a screamy metal band), and — another favorite of mine — The Hot Damn!

Love them. Listen to “I Didn’t Like You Anyway” or “Automatic.”

And then there was the wrestling.

Ricochet and Komander put on an acrobatic show. This isn’t your dad’s wrestling extravaganza.

There was at least one show per day along with photo opps, autograph sessions, podcasts and random other events — events like a belly-flop contest.

Here’s Will Ospreay with his stellar attempt.

As you are all on a boat together, you could find yourself riding the elevator with Toni Storm.

Or passing Turbo Floyd of the Outrunners in a hallway.

He’s right out of the ‘80s all the time!

Or standing in line at the bar with Jesus.

What was hilarious later is that Fozzy has a song called, “Drinking with Jesus.” The crowd was SO EXCITED and lifted this man up to the front. Sadly, Jericho didn’t even notice. Missed opportunity, I say.

As for drinking, I started the cruise still doing Dry January. Friends, that is a rough choice. ROUGH. Especially when I hear fellow passengers say things like this about their own drinks:

“I’m drunk, and I can tell that’s strong. Got DAMN, that’s strong!”*

But I made it.

And I didn’t get crazy on the trip, either. Unlike others. Look at Will Ospreay’s face after a night of drunken karaoke:

Let me tell you: Cruises are GREAT for people watching.

On the last day at sea, my traveling friend and I sat and watched people for hours. I asked him if he was going to get a chair massage like the dude next to us.

He said, “Absolutely not.”

I said, “Why not? You liked the last massage you got.”

He said, “That was in a nice relaxing cave. This is on a ship surrounded by weird people with Great White doing a sound check in the background.”

Fair enough.

Five days, four nights of events tailored to my interests? Yes, please.

I mean, JUST LOOK!

I’ll tell you this: It was the first time on this cruise, but it won’t be the last.

Who is coming with me next time?

Let’s go!
Beth

*Yes, “got damn” with a “t.”

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Dear 2024:

You were a mixed bag. A review of my posts this year reflects high highs and low lows.

For this post, though, I’m going to focus on the positive.

I got to see both of my sons at Christmas. Joy!

  1. My younger son (Gideon) chose to study environmental science at the university for which I work. That means free tuition, a great education, and I get to see him all the time. He earned two As and a B in his first semester and loves it.
  2. My older son (Dominic) attended Navy A School in Pensacola, Florida, graduated fourth in his class, and is about to go to Norfolk, Virginia. He seems happy, mature and focused.
  3. Ex (Eddie) is dating a lovely woman who was gracious enough to invite me over for Christmas dinner.
  4. My man friend and I got to explore more of Oregon: Bend, hot springs, Seal Rock, Eugene, etc.
  5. Got to see St. Louis family, framily and friends for Thanksgiving. Man, I miss that town and those people. Gideon went with me, begrudgingly according to him. At the end, he had this to say, “I actually had a good time.” Actually. 🙄
  6. Though I miss St. Louis, I love my job and my coworkers. Oregon is growing on me.
  7. Wendy and Wallace visited me this month, and we managed to all spill beer on Wallace. Lucky him!
  8. I’ve been taking care of my granddog (Vince) while Gideon is with his father on winter break. Leo and Vince are getting along. That in itself is a Christmas miracle.
  9. Saw “Wicked” the movie, “DRAG the Musical” and “A Wonderful World” in New York, along with friends Michael, Shane, Jason and Brooke while I was there for my birthday.
  10. Also got to see my birth father. Third year in a row of going out to see him as part of my birthday weekend. Cool, right? Seems fitting. And we are trying to make up for lost time.
  11. 36-hour Tina broke her own record. New moniker: 20-hour Tina. She got into New York at 2 p.m. on my birthday, and I dropped her off at La Guardia at 10 the next morning. In between, we ate at trendy Cocodaq, participated in “Life and Trust,” shopped at Bryant Park, and stayed at the notorious Standard High Line.
  12. I won “Squid Game: The Experience.”
I won the mask I’m wearing, entrance to the VIP lounge, 20% off items in the gift shop, and bragging rights.
Brooke told me I was the only one to make it across the finish line in Red Light, Green Light. All those years of having to freeze in various plays during my MFA years paid off!
Brooke and I enjoy the Squid Game VIP lounge.
Hour Two of 20-hour Tina’s visit
Look at this chicken. In the bucket. (Not Tina, as she’s fairly brave.)
Birthday brunch with Michael — a delight!
I always have to see the Rockefeller Center tree.
And watch the OG Grinch every year.
While I was visiting the boys in Savannah, I picked up a few necessities I can’t get in Oregon.
Leo and Vince
See? Getting along.

I’m hopeful that 2025 has more ups than downs, but I remain thankful for the abundance of joy in my life.

Happy New Year!
Beth

*Johnny Mercer, of course.

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Hey kids!

Auntie Beth knows the holidays can be polarizing, and it’s not just because of voting habits.

It’s the cranberry sauce.

There will never be peace between the warring factions of jarred vs. whole berry.

For the record, Auntie Beth likes them both.

Grandma Kathy’s is a whole-berry house.

Let’s start there and examine the Thanksgiving staples:

Whole-berry cranberry sauce FTW.
Also polarizing: green bean casserole. Auntie Beth is a fan.
Not a fan of gravy, though.
Mashed potatoes with the secret ingredient: cream cheese. Not great for the waistline, but worth it.
Mac and cheese with about 27 different kinds of cheese.
Dressing (NOT stuffing as it didn’t go in the turkey).
Keep the carb fest going with rolls.
Roasted carrots with sage and brown butter.
A little salad so folks can pretend to be healthy.
THE MAIN EVENT
Pumpkin pies: Libby’s regular on the left, fresh on the right.

For this Thanksgiving, we also had some different choices:

Brie and fig jam puffs
Deviled eggs
Whatever these are (delicious)

What are some dishes you can’t live without for Thanksgiving? Tell us all in the comments.

Happy Thanksgiving!
Auntie Beth

*Weird Al

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Hey kids!

Auntie Beth wants to share some travel advice to distract you from A VERY BIG THING happening today.

If you like near-death experiences, the pervasive smell of weed, and 20-somethings in beanies, Auntie Beth has the place for you:

Oregon’s Umpqua Hot Springs

Doesn’t this look delightful? (Photo credit)

Soak Oregon will put the fear of God in you: “The last few miles [to the trail head] are on a rough road, so we recommend a high-clearance vehicle.”

Don’t pay any attention to that. (Auntie Beth nearly rented a Jeep. She would have been PISSED OFF if she had wasted that money. She was totally fine in her tiny, low-clearance VW.)

Soak Oregon also warns, “This trail is steep.”

Do pay attention to that.

The part that has a makeshift hand rail does not need it, and the part that absolutely does need one does NOT.

Auntie Beth tripped on a tree root and nearly toppled backward onto her man friend, which would surely have sent him to his death (not that she is being dramatic in any way).

A rare quiet moment at the hot springs.

There should have been warnings about other things.

• Facilities. The U.S. Forest Service notes a vault toilet on site. It does not mention that the smell emanating from it is akin to a fleet of porta potties after Lollapalooza.

• The horde of hippies. It was just after lunch on a Tuesday. Auntie Beth had taken the day off. Had all these young people done the same thing? Or was this their job as “influencers” or something? There were so many of them — probably 40 total in pods of five and six — clogging all the pools.

• Dress code. Auntie Beth had been warned that Oregon hot springs are nakie. She was resigned to her derobed destiny. What she found might have been worse: the entire Columbia Sportswear catalog.

• Pot. The Hot Springs Hippies LOVED them some weed. Auntie Beth is no square, but does not understand the allure of smoking when edibles exist. (Don’t people care about their lungs?) Also, secondhand smoke is AWFUL. So skunky.

Auntie Beth took this pic after the first wave of visitors cleared out.

With rising concern (i.e., panic) about the hike back down, a burgeoning pot-induced headache, and general distaste for crowds, Auntie Beth felt the need to cut her visit short.

See that tight-lipped smile? Auntie Beth is not feeling the restorative effects of the hot springs.

No fewer than two wannabe travel guides insisted that Auntie Beth and Man Friend should explore the lower pools.

“No, thank you.”

If this sounds like your idea of a good time, ENJOY!

One of the locals Auntie Beth met at the nearby convenience store did say that the time to go is first thing in the morning as no one is there.

(Right. That’s because it is SO VERY COLD outside.)

Anyway, tell them Auntie Beth sent you.

*Buster!

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Dear Blog,

I’m so glad I have you. I know I ignore you sometimes. But Stella always gets her groove back.

I get sand in my shell, and my posts become my pearl. Well, they are pearls to me.

“Any writer worth his salt writes to please himself … It’s a self-exploratory operation that is endless. An exorcism of not necessarily his demon, but of his divine discontent.”
–Harper Lee

What’s interesting to me is that what some readers find pearls are the exact posts that others find to be sand still.

For example, in election years, my posts seesaw between some kind of topical outrage and mundane daily life. Those who love the former also seem to like the latter.

But not all who like the latter also like the former.

I’m sure it depends on whether the person agrees with me or not.

However, if I don’t write, I might die.

 “Words are a lens to focus one’s mind.”
–Ayn Rand

It’s my chief creative outlet. It gives me a reason to get out of the house. (Sometimes it is the only reason.)

And through the magic of technology, I can schedule posts — a fact a former coworker (aka Mean Girl) didn’t understand. I’m convinced she friended me on Facebook just to spy on me. She complained about me to my boss, saying I was using work time to write. My boss told me. I was incredulous.

“Does she not understand how this works?” I asked him. He shrugged.

“A word after a word after a word is power.”
–Margaret Atwood

Here I get to vent my spleen about her and others.

“I write to discover what I know.”
–Flannery O’Connor

I also get an excuse to do research like I did when I was a full-time journalist.

“When you make music or write or create, it’s really your job to have mind-blowing, irresponsible, condomless sex with whatever idea it is you’re writing about at the time.”
–Lady Gaga

Ultimately, this blog is for me. Maybe it’s for others too. It’s not for everyone. I’m OK with that.

Love,
Beth

*The other Elvis

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Dear Billie Joe, Tré and Mike,

Thanks so much for taking the Saviors Tour to Portland. Because of you, I got to share a special evening with my son.

I’m a Green Day fan — perhaps not a super fan, but a fan nonetheless. I love live music of any sort. Gideon is a Green Day fan. I’ve been trying to steal his Green Day shirt for a year now. And his girlfriend loves Smashing Pumpkins, one of the openers.

It seemed like a no-brainer for us to go.

So we did.

Heavy rain (yay, Oregon!) and traffic (yay, Portland!) and difficulty parking (yay, Providence Park!) meant that we missed the Linda Lindas and Rancid, which made me very sad. We did arrive in time for Billy and the gang, though, which made Mikayla happy.

Typically the home stadium for the Portland Thorns, Providence Park is a great music venue with fantastic acoustics.

Sadly, our open-air floor seats meant we needed our rain ponchos at times.

Didn’t matter. Totally worth it.

When you played “Longview” (Gideon’s favorite), he said, “I’m so happy, I think I might cry.”

And I thought I might cry too.

It was only Gideon’s second concert, if you can believe it.

His first also was with me.

He was not even a year old. I was wearing him in one of those baby Bjorns at the Police reunion tour stop in New Orleans in 2007. (Long story for another time. Going to the concert with kids wasn’t part of the plan, and a friendship ended over it.)

You sounded AMAZING! As good if not better than the recordings. And you’ve been at it for 37 years. Fitting then that it was a 37-song set list.

37 songs!

All of “Dookie.” All of “American Idiot.” Plus a few more classics.

Billie Joe, you seemed choked up too.

Maybe it was because it was the second-to-last night of a very long tour. Maybe because it was a great night. Maybe we were all sharing something special.

So thanks. From the bottom of my jaded little heart.

❤️,
Beth

*”Good Riddance”

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