Coachella 6- RHCP

I will dance a little jig when the first thing I do in the morning isn't blow my nose and cough up a lung. Seriously, I think co-workers are taking donations for my time in Hospice. Thank god for DayQuil, not just for its medicinal properties, but also for getting me really high.

Back to business. I gotta pick up the pace, this is stretching on forever.

Red Hot Chili Peppers
I loved these guys in high school, back when I fancied myself something of a Sir Psycho Sexy. When I was on my month-long teen excursion through Russia, we had one tape player and two tapes, so every bus ride was scored with BloodSugarSexMagik and The Eagles Greatest Hits. Great albums but I kinda burned out. I never bought any RHCP albums since that trip, telling myself it was the last album worth having.

My bad, because I didn't know over half the tunes they belted out at Coachella. They had a lot of energy for aging rockers and they were able to hold my attention well, but I still felt like I was missing out.

One weird thing was the mass exodus during their set. I would've guessed people werebeating the end-of-the-night rush, but there was still another performer after the Peppers. Maybe everyone else was like me, stuck in 1991, not adapting well to change. Or maybe they all had to pee.

Whatever the case, Jon and I managed to keep scooting towards the stage after every song. By the finale, I was close enough to make out with Flea. But I didn't. That's gay.

Flea told a cute joke at the concert. It made me angry.