U2 is coming to Tampa and playing a show on my birthday this year. That's really awesome, and I like U2 and all. They're a phenomenal band, don't get me wrong. Just, you know, I'm not a big huge mega-fan. Not like "oh my God they're in concert on my birthday what an awesome gift that would be!!!" In fact, tickets to that show would be kind of a crappy gift for me. The outrageous amount of money spent on those tickets would be much better off going towards a dozen different things I could name, in terms of Stuff Marcos Wants for His Birthday.
Plus, I hate crowds of people. They're one of my biggest pet peeves. I can't stand the thought of wading through the unwashed masses just to pay too much money for a Pepsi. Or a T-shirt. I am not a "people person." I put up -- just barely -- with crowds at comic book conventions, on the rare occasion that I can afford to attend one, and there are two reasons. The first is that the benefit I gain from seeing all the talented writers and artists and getting to chat with them in person, and picking up cool swag and maybe even a few sketches, greatly outweighs the annoyance of having to crowd-surf. The second is the fact that the crowd itself is at least partly made up of reclusive, skittish comic book geeks (I hate the stereotype because I don't exactly fit it, but I have to admit there is a small grain of truth to it), rather than the drunken obnoxious frat boys or aging hipsters I might find at a concert. Prototypical Comic Book Guy might smell, but he won't get up in your face and be all "WOOOOO! I LOVE THIS SONG!!!" If he does invade your space, a quick jab in the man-boob will send him shuffling on his way.
(Not everyone at comic conventions is a pudgy wimp, and I accept no responsibility for you getting your can handed to you by the guy who's giving the Judo demonstration in Meeting Room B-14 at 3:00. You provoked him, not me.)
Anyway, back to my point. I wish a band I liked a lot more was playing on my birthday. Like, I don't know, Boy Hits Car, or the Black Keys, or Bloc Party. Or, I could just be a bigger U2 fan, but that doesn't do anything for the cost of tickets. I mean, why do I even know about a concert that's taking place in October already? Because the mass media is pimping it out because they know it'll completely sell out, and that means that prices pretty much start at "My Left Arm." And that's for lousy seats where you can't tell if that's Bono or just a cookie crumb stuck to your eyelash.
Hey, maybe there's a cool movie being released on my birthday... Let's see... The Informant, and Zombieland. Hmm, and Couple's Retreat, but from the looks of it, just mentioning it is more thought than I really want to be giving it. I think I read somewhere that Sherlock Holmes has been pushed back to my birthday...ish. Oooh, and Where the Wild Things Are is slated to come out the week after my birthday. Sweet!
There's no real reason for me to commit any of this to my blog. In fact, I am typing it from my mother-in-law's ailing laptop while the virus scan runs in the background, so I'm probably just re-infecting the interwebs. It's not Conficker, though, so enjoy.
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