OK, now that I’ve checked out of that hotel, I need to warn all y’all about staying at the Sheraton Jacksonville… Do not be deceived by the nice newer furnishings. As evidenced by my last post, that place has the worst insulation between the walls of the guest rooms. I’ve stayed in Motel 6s that had better sound proofing. Yesterday morning, I was treated to a lovely rendition of my neighbor’s morning noises which included loud yawns, farts, and belching. And his requisite bathroom noises too. No wonder the woman on the phone last night seemed noncommittal about furthering their relationship… And even though I’m a platinum guest and confirmed a late checkout time of 3pm, I had housekeeping knock on my door between noon and 1pm four separate times! WTF? Don’t they communicate with the front desk and each other? I was in the middle of presenting during a meeting and had to go on mute, fling the door open repeatedly and tell the poor woman on the other side that I had a confirmed late checkout. I would have had fewer interruptions taking the meeting from the median of I-95.
Jacksonville and Orlando must be in a competition for the most roadwork on a major freeway category. The sign that should have announced my exit was missing and I made a leap of faith that I should take whatever that lane was. I had a brief but vivid flash of me driving this pimped out Mercedes through a sketchy neighborhood (because you know it’s within the realm of possibility for me). And I had to revert to compound curse words for 6 different drivers in a 15 minute stretch, which is a change from the happy-go-lucky driver I was the past few days. Thank god the radio played Total Eclipse of the Heart to distract me (I totally nailed the last chorus) or that number of cursed drivers would have been far higher.
I finally got to my next hotel in one piece and was even able to check in early, which was a bonus because I still had work stuff I needed to get done before I could resume singing my face off and dancing around like an idiot. I decided to walk to the theater for the next show since on the map, it was just right across the river. I did not take into account how freaking cold the wind would be walking over the bridge however. And there was a group of 8 youngish people right in front of me walking over the bridge that were too scattered for me to pass them so I could keep walking briskly and not freeze (one of the girls at the end of the peloton kept turning around and looking at me like I was going to rob them or something… I wanted to say, if y’all would freaking stop herding like a bunch of migrating wildebeest, I could pass you and stop making you feel uncomfortable.)
The Florida Theater in Jacksonville is another of the old school variety. This one was built in the 1920s (at least according to the usher I was chatting with) and was pretty damn ornate. I spent some time staring at all of the scrollwork and wondering who dusts all the nooks and crannies of that stuff. My seat for this show was up in the balcony/loge area waaaayyyy on the left side looking at the stage, 2nd row back. So I had a pretty good view except for the side of the stage I was closest to since there was a pillar that jutted out (and that made me sad because I love watching Jola bashing on the drums…it’s very girl-powering to watch a female drummer…and I couldn’t really see that part of the stage).
The opening act, Glam Skanks (4 women who play some rocking fun songs, LA-based, go see them if you can because they put on a great show), got the crowd going. When Adam Ant and the band took the stage, I was immediately ready to get up and dance… and was one of the very few apparently. Some redneck jackass was yelling about people getting up. Keep in mind this weasel was sprawled out with his legs over the seat in front of him and lounging like he was on his couch watching TV. I was like, dude, I paid good money to come to a concert, I’m on the very end of the row shoved next to a wall…if I want to get up and dance, I’m going to get up and dance. I triple dog dare you to actually try to stop me. He was screaming at some other woman too and finally the usher went over to him and I don’t know what the usher said to him, but weasel-boy didn’t make a peep the rest of the night. So I was up dancing like a fool, even though the two women sitting right next to me in the rest of the empty row sat like bumps on a log. Didn’t sing along, didn’t even jiggle their knees in time with the music every once in a while. I think that’s a clear sign that the body snatchers have taken over someone if they don’t react at all to music, right? Because I hear music, I need to move. Shit, I get a song in my head and I’m freaking dancing around (and yes, I am aware of the looks people give me; but you know what, I’m at the age now where IDGAF and I actually have way more fun because of my apathy towards pretending I’m cool).
Anyway…the show was awesome (as usual, like I’m going to say anything different?) and the band seemed to have even more energy than they did in Clearwater. Will, the lead guitarist, had his guitar strap come off during the finale song and just kept shredding. He actually picked up a mallet from one of the drum kits and used it like a violin bow on his guitar. It was absolutely incredible (for someone who loves guitar solos) and I’m freaking pissed I didn’t get it on video because my crappy old iPhone has less storage than a damn thumb drive.
After the show, I wandered over to a local bar near the theater to grab a late dinner. Despite the glowing reviews of the place online, I was none too impressed. I basically had a pizza Hot Pocket and cold mac and cheese. Fortunately, I was still too amped up over the show to get too annoyed (plus they had grape 3 Olives vodka which I hadn’t had in over 2 years so there was a small redeeming quality about the place). To get home, I debated whether to walk or take an Uber and opted for an Uber because it was getting kinda cold out there. Thank god I chose that option because while I was in the show having a great time, the city of Jacksonville closed the f-ing bridge I walked over earlier in the day. I don’t even know if there was a pedestrian option for me to have gotten back across the river. The Uber driver had to take the I-95 bridge and I sure as hell would not be trying to walk on the shoulder of a freaking interstate at midnight… Jacksonville, you just pulled into the lead of “f’ed up Florida road works”, although I am on my way back to Orlando today so I can’t call a definitive winner just yet.
So, I have only one more leg of the road trip and only one more show left and that actually makes me sad. I’ve been having a great time and I’m not ready to have it be over. I really did need this to lift my spirits. I was dancing during the show and suddenly, a thought popped into my head that I could be in chemo, I could be unable to stand on that leg, I could unable to dance along to the music. An overwhelming rush of emotion came over me and I had to blink back some tears (which would have been very inappropriate to be crying while the band was playing Greta X). I’m grateful that music, a great rental car, annoying things that can be turned into funny stories, Adam Ant, mini chocolate donuts, band members liking my Instagram photos from the concerts, dancing, and Florida itself can work its magic to remind me that life is pretty damn awesome even if it’s not quite going your way.
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