Yard Towel
I didn't go to my first concert until I was a newlywed 23 year old. Up until then, I had gone to a bajillion ballets and musicals, but no concerts. It wasn't because I didn't want to, the opportunity just didn't present itself.
Then, one Spring day, after the Spring day I was married on, Mike and I were at my mom's house and we were eating dinner with her, Darius, and Holly, and Darius said "hey! 311 is coming to Austin in August! We should go because I can crash on your couch!" and I said "YESSSSS" and then Holly said "I'm coming too!" and we all looked at her like "Holly, you're 15, a 311 concert is the last place you should be" but then Holly said "also I'll buy everyone's tickets if you take me with you" AND WE WEREN'T IDIOTS SO WE LET HER COME.
(I'm probably paraphrasing the way that whole conversation went down. It was over a decade ago.)
(Also, do you like how quickly we sold out our morals for concert tickets?)
Let me tell you, as a first concert going experience, it was an all encompassing concert going experience. And by all encompassing I mean there was dehydration, a mosh pit, overweight men who forgot how to shower, a 40 something year old woman who was following 311 on their entire tour and was more than willing to talk your ear off about it (she had just come from Florida) (I mean I thought I loved 311 at the time, but I didn't LOVE them, I guess...), and that awesome pot smell (I hate the smell of pot). It was a fun concert. I mean that sincerely. They weren't promoting a new album so they played whatever the heck they wanted, and it was FANTASTIC.
Before they took the stage, however, can you guess who opened for them?? Snoop Dogg. Please allow that to sink in for a second. When I tell people I've seen Snoop Dogg perform, it's fun to watch the expressions sweep across their faces. Surprise, amusement, and then skepticism. No one believes me! I don't get it. I'm so street. Anyway. At one point during Snoop Dogg's set, his drummer flung his towel around over his head, and then threw it into the crowd, where it promptly landed on my head. And we kept that towel, dang it. We called it the Snoop Dogg's drummer's towel for years. YEARS. It went into our sad collection of towels (and by sad I mean none of them match and they're worn out and they should all be burned and replaced with new ones but who has the time or money to do that), where it served us faithfully until succumbing to I can't remember what disgusting incident involving either a dog or a child in this house. It was last year, that's all I remember. It cleaned up its last spill and I looked at Mike and he looked at me and I said "we can't clean it out this time, can we?" and he said "nope, this is disgusting" and we unceremoniously threw it in the trash.
Hindsight is 20/20. That towel deserved something like a Viking funeral.
This brings me to today. I'm delighted to say that Snoop Dogg's drummer's towel has been replaced by yard towel.
Saturday, Mike and I were cutting the grass in the backyard, when we discovered an....orangey......pinkish.....??? towel tucked into a corner of the fence.
Where did it come from? What purpose did it serve? What hidden germs were concealed within its fibers? No one knows. What I DO know, though, is that I said "Mike, we have to throw that away because it's mysterious and disgusting" and so he put it on the table on our patio.
I think I knew, deep down inside, in that moment, what he was going to do with it, but I didn't want to believe it.
Imagine my somewhat surprise when I hauled all the towels downstairs to wash them this morning (Monday is towel washing day), and there in the dirty towel basket in the garage was the orangey pinkish mystery towel. I KNEW HE WAS GOING TO SAVE IT. I don't know why he did. And, what's more, I don't know why I washed it. But I did. I could've walked it over to the trash bin which goes down to the curb tonight. Easy. But I didn't. The power of Snoop Dogg's drummer's towel was probably at work here. Beckoning to me, from the other side, to save another orphaned towel.
Here it is:
Then, one Spring day, after the Spring day I was married on, Mike and I were at my mom's house and we were eating dinner with her, Darius, and Holly, and Darius said "hey! 311 is coming to Austin in August! We should go because I can crash on your couch!" and I said "YESSSSS" and then Holly said "I'm coming too!" and we all looked at her like "Holly, you're 15, a 311 concert is the last place you should be" but then Holly said "also I'll buy everyone's tickets if you take me with you" AND WE WEREN'T IDIOTS SO WE LET HER COME.
(I'm probably paraphrasing the way that whole conversation went down. It was over a decade ago.)
(Also, do you like how quickly we sold out our morals for concert tickets?)
Let me tell you, as a first concert going experience, it was an all encompassing concert going experience. And by all encompassing I mean there was dehydration, a mosh pit, overweight men who forgot how to shower, a 40 something year old woman who was following 311 on their entire tour and was more than willing to talk your ear off about it (she had just come from Florida) (I mean I thought I loved 311 at the time, but I didn't LOVE them, I guess...), and that awesome pot smell (I hate the smell of pot). It was a fun concert. I mean that sincerely. They weren't promoting a new album so they played whatever the heck they wanted, and it was FANTASTIC.
Before they took the stage, however, can you guess who opened for them?? Snoop Dogg. Please allow that to sink in for a second. When I tell people I've seen Snoop Dogg perform, it's fun to watch the expressions sweep across their faces. Surprise, amusement, and then skepticism. No one believes me! I don't get it. I'm so street. Anyway. At one point during Snoop Dogg's set, his drummer flung his towel around over his head, and then threw it into the crowd, where it promptly landed on my head. And we kept that towel, dang it. We called it the Snoop Dogg's drummer's towel for years. YEARS. It went into our sad collection of towels (and by sad I mean none of them match and they're worn out and they should all be burned and replaced with new ones but who has the time or money to do that), where it served us faithfully until succumbing to I can't remember what disgusting incident involving either a dog or a child in this house. It was last year, that's all I remember. It cleaned up its last spill and I looked at Mike and he looked at me and I said "we can't clean it out this time, can we?" and he said "nope, this is disgusting" and we unceremoniously threw it in the trash.
Hindsight is 20/20. That towel deserved something like a Viking funeral.
This brings me to today. I'm delighted to say that Snoop Dogg's drummer's towel has been replaced by yard towel.
Saturday, Mike and I were cutting the grass in the backyard, when we discovered an....orangey......pinkish.....??? towel tucked into a corner of the fence.
Where did it come from? What purpose did it serve? What hidden germs were concealed within its fibers? No one knows. What I DO know, though, is that I said "Mike, we have to throw that away because it's mysterious and disgusting" and so he put it on the table on our patio.
I think I knew, deep down inside, in that moment, what he was going to do with it, but I didn't want to believe it.
Imagine my somewhat surprise when I hauled all the towels downstairs to wash them this morning (Monday is towel washing day), and there in the dirty towel basket in the garage was the orangey pinkish mystery towel. I KNEW HE WAS GOING TO SAVE IT. I don't know why he did. And, what's more, I don't know why I washed it. But I did. I could've walked it over to the trash bin which goes down to the curb tonight. Easy. But I didn't. The power of Snoop Dogg's drummer's towel was probably at work here. Beckoning to me, from the other side, to save another orphaned towel.
Here it is:
Welcome to our home, yard towel. May you clean up many questionable messes for years to come. And may you carry on the vigilant spirit that was born with Snoop Dogg's drummer's towel.
Forever and ever, amen.
Forever and ever, amen.
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