View from the Nosebleed Section

Honestly, I was not feeling that great heading into the Cake show on Saturday. It wasn't just that we had paid $50 a pop for third-balcony seats so high up we could barely see the stage -- something I only realized as, at the direction of a pitying usher, the girls and I huffed and puffed our way up staircase after narrow staircase, finally emerging into a sea of wooden folding chairs precariously balanced on steep ledges, like those terraced rice paddies in Banaue.

Is there a band down there?

No, even though girls were a little disappointed at first, it was kind of cool to be way way the hell up there, seated inside the curve of the dome ceiling, surrounded by grimy stained-glass suns.

So I don't think it was being up so high that had me down. It might have been the rain, which really hasn't stopped much lately (and no, I don't want hear about how you had to dig your car out of three feet of snow for the fifth time last week), or the lice (which are finally, finally gone, knock on wood). There's been a fair amount of stress at our house lately around high school choices (more on that coming soon, I think). It certainly didn't help that two-thirds of our party had spent some portion of the last 48 hours curled up on the bathroom floor puking our guts out.

As we settled in and looked around at our fellow nosebleeders -- a friendly, animated crowd who seemed quite ready to make the best of it -- Julianna leaned across Josie's lap and asked me if I'd switch seats with her. "There's this gap between our chairs, and there's no gap between yours," she explained.

Feeling distinctly third-wheelish, I plopped into my new seat and muttered something to the guy next to me about how I guessed it was really important to do whatever it takes to get that extra three inches of distance from your dorky mom. He exchanged looks with the woman on his left, and they both laughed. "Yeah, we gave our kids, like, a hundred miles," he said. This made me feel a little better, somehow.

Then the lights dimmed and the show began.

Two and a half hours later we were filing back down all those stairs with our ears buzzing. We were laughing and dancing. We had forgotten all about nosebleeds, ghostly itching, and parental proximity.

For a full report on those crucial two and a half hours, we turn now to our correspondent from the Land of Adolescence. What did you think of the Cake show, Josie?

Um. It was great? That's not a very good question, Mom. 

You're right. How about the dramatic opening music, did you like that?

At first it was funny, but then it just got annoying. I guess it was funny. 

Didn't you like how everyone was lighting their lighters and waving them around? And how the music kept crescendoing and crescendoing again and again, and the lights were flashing and changing color, but the stage stayed empty, and stayed empty, and it went on forever?

Now that I think about it, it was actually pretty funny. 

I think maybe after we saw how ironic and deadpan they were, it made more sense.

I already knew they were being ironic, Mom. 

Oh.

But that guy was really great. It was really funny when he gave away the tree. He was all, "I guess now might be a good time to do the tree," like it was something that they might as well get over with before the show got too far along.

Yeah, and like it was something that we were all expecting because duh, that's what happens at every rock concert, right? -- they give away a tree in a bucket.

The lady that won it, she went up on stage, and he kept shaking hands with her, and he wouldn't let go, and he made her promise to take a picture of herself every year with the tree and send it to them so they could post it on their web site. "We're going to watch you age," he said. And he said if she got too fat, and she didn't want us to see, she could just stick her head in from the side of the frame. He was kind of winky about it, like he wasn't really serious, so it was okay.

I also liked it when she told him she wanted the cherry tree because she cans cherries, and maybe she could send him some, and he said, "That would be good, because Cake doesn't know how to can. Cake can't do it." What was your favorite song that they played?


I know I'm going to sound like a bad fan, but really, "Short Skirt / Long Jacket" was my favorite.

Why does that sound like a bad fan?

Becuase that's like the one that everyone has on their iPod, even if they don't know the band. That's how I am about Modest Mouse. 

Which Modest Mouse song do you have on your iPod?

Well, the main one is "Float On," 'cause it was in Rock Band.

So you feel like "Short Skirt / Long Jacket" is like their big hit, and a true fan would go a little deeper?

Well, that's not actually my favorite song by them, it's just my favorite one that they played. And they played it very well. Also, it's not just their big hit, it's the song that's kind of detached from them, because everyone thinks of it as the song from Chuck.

You mean everyone thinks of it as the song from "I Want a Pie That Makes Itself," right?

Yeah, that's what I said.

How about that sing-a-long contest?

That was really fun -- that was that same song. So he divided the audience in half and had us each singing part of the chorus -- or just the "Na na na na na na" part, really -- and we had to try to sing louder than the other half. And he was up on stage running back and forth telling each half, "See, they're louder. They hate you!" and "See, you're louder, they hate you! They hate you 'cause you're stronger!" and then, "They hate you for your freedoms!" I was on the winning side.

That was hilarious. And then when it was over he said, "See, now didn't you really feel like they hated you?" And everyone said, "Yeah!" "And didn't that make you sing louder?" "Yeah!" And he said, "See, there's no hope for humanity."

But you know, later that night I went and looked at their web site and saw that they really do give away a tree at every show. And they have this map of their Cake Forest, with all these trees marked on it all over North America, and you can click on the map and see all these pictures of people standing proudly next to their newly planted little trees. It made me think they actually do have some hope for humanity.

Yeah. He really is ironic, Mom.

Yeah, I figured. But it was good to see that map, all the same. Oh wait, you have to tell about the limo!

Oh yeah, so while we were leaving, we saw this big white limo parked outside, and I was all, "IMA BET YOU FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS THAT'S WHAT CAKE IS RIDING TO THEIR HOTEL IN!" and we all laughed and got in our little silver Prius. Make that all caps.

You mean to show how we were all shouting because we were deaf from the concert, or to show how you were so excited?

Because I was excited! And then you were driving down First Avenue, way past the stadium, and I was all, "WE SHOULD GO TO KRISPY KREMES!!!" And you were all, "OMG YOU ARE SO RIGHT!! THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT WE ARE GOING TO DO!!!" And you pulled a total U-ey in the middle of First Avenue and came careening back into the Krispy Kreme parking lot. So we got a bunch of donuts. You wouldn't buy twelve, even though it would be cheaper than seven.


In the end the guy said, "I can't do it. I can't charge you more for less donuts! I'm giving you the dozen donuts deal even though you didn't take them all."

So we sat down by the window on the weird orange stools and listened to the music, "The first cut is the deeeeeeepppest..." And we ate our donuts. And then I looked out the window and I said, "LOOK, IT'S THE LIMO!!!" Like that. 

Yeah, the white limo was parked in the Paper Zone parking lot. Do you think Cake had a sudden late-night need for rubber stamps?

Or donuts.