In my continuing quest to find interesting things to do in Pittsburgh I dragged J to the Rex Theater last night to watch Edwin McCain play. We were joined by our friends JW and K.
The Rex is a former movie palace. The lobby is tiny with a shabby bar on one side of the room, a grand piano in a corner and well executed murals on all the walls. The bathrooms are also decorated with murals of James Dean (for the men) and Marilyn Monroe (for the women).
The current owners ripped out the seats, left the old material on the walls, screwed multicolored lightbulbs into the sconces and called it a day. There is a second, badly built bar (serving cheap beer, and only cheap beer) under the balcony stairs. A sound booth is located in the opposite corner. I've seen better built setups at rock concerts. This venue was not designed to impress.
Except that the acoustics are quite good and the balcony is a popular place to hang out while watching a show. People don't seem to mind the sticky floor, dirty white folding chairs and the tallshakyey wooden bar tables.
Edwin McCain was fantastic. Funny, sarcastic and full of energy. One of the members of the band opened the show. I liked his songs enough to blow $15.00 on a self produced CD. JW pointed out the copyright date (2000) with the comment "I give the guy credit. He keeps trying".
After the performance, "Security" shooed us out into the lobby since we did not have "Aftershow" passes. Since the doors between the theater and the lobby are made of glass, I was content to watch Edwin meet "Aftershow" fans and have pictures taken. I was staring off into space when one of the fans walked out into the lobby, slapped a pass onto my shirt and said "Here. Go meet him". A second person gave K her pass.
An aside: Past history has shown that I turn into a total idiot when meeting someone who is
A. Seriously Famous or
B. Famous-to-me and Highly Respected.
For example: In 1992, shortly before Tip O'Neill passed away, my family saw him in a steakhouse on Cape Cod. My mother, not normally given to fits of hysteria, was over the moon at the thought she was eating in the same room as the former Speaker of the House of Representatives.
Mom watched O'Neill like a hawk. When the man rose to leave the restaurant, my mother followed him out into the lobby. Not one to miss an opportunity to watch a parent make an idiot of herself, I went with her.
And made an idiot out of myself. My mother was poised, calm and charming. She thanked him for his service to the United States and shook his hand. He asked if we were sisters and shook my hand. In the presence of greatness so close, I babbled like an idiot.
Forward to last night. I stand with two Aftershow passes in my hand (K handed hers to me). K and J are urging me to go inside and meet him. K is handing me her cell phone so I can get a picture taken. My feet are frozen to the floor.
JW comes back and I hand him the second pass. We wander inside. The crew chases us away from the stage (they were tearing down) and we wait. No Edwin McCain. Thinking that we have missed our opportunity, we go back out to the lobby.
Edwin McCain comes back inside. He has been out near the tour bus signing autographs. JW and I go back in and I, in a polite, tiny voice, ask him if he would not mind one more picture.
He says yes. He smiles. His tone is friendly. I am terrified. He puts one arm around me and we poise for a photo. His back is sweaty from playing. The tips of his fingers brush the back of my shirt.
The damn camera phone doesn't work.
I smile at him. Shrug my shoulders. Say thanks in a barely audible voice and flee. My record as an idiot unbroken.
In other news, A flash mob invades Best Buy.
Read some of the other entries. I think my favorite is the McDonald's Bathroom Attendant stunt.
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