My Midlife Crisis Tour 2019 – Atlanta

OK y’all, with a title like that you know what time it is… time for my random thoughts while following Adam Ant around on tour. As usual, if you’re only here for the cancer stuff, you’re going to have to wait a few posts before my mundane life reasserts itself and I’m not traipsing around the country behaving like a teenager with a fake ID.

Adam Ant embarked on his U.S. Friend or Foe tour, starting in early September in the Midwest. Fortunately, I did not purchase tickets for the beginning of the tour because I had a last-minute work trip to Budapest during that time frame and I really would not have wanted to have that conversation with my boss (yes, I’ll absolutely go to Budapest but I’ll need my return ticket routed through Milwaukee and a few other stops before heading home to Austin, thanks). I opted this tour to get tickets for the three of the last four stops on the tour instead. (Cleveland was one of the stops on this tour and you know I was looking at that trying to figure out if my ticket from the aborted Wonderful tour would still be honored.)

So anyway, my first stop was Atlanta. I’ve been to Atlanta a number of times but I usually stay near the massive convention center. But the concert was being held at the Atlanta Symphony Hall so I opted to stay further north than I ever had before, this time in the Arts District. The first day there, I met the mother of a friend of mine for drinks in the hotel bar. It is important to note that I had a slight buzz on, because after she left I walked to the nearest gas station convenience store to get snacks for the room. The buzz explains how I walked out with two bags of garlic and onion chips (what, I’m by myself, I can eat as much of those as I want), more soda than I needed for three nights, some Rolos, and a six pack of Jack Daniels Downhome Punch. I’m telling you now, that Downhome Punch is like alcoholic crack-infused watermelon Jolly Rangers.

I had dinner in the hotel thanks to a food and beverage credit. Somewhat surprisingly, the hotel lobby was bumping… DJ spinning music, some distributor passing out free samples of a cocktail to a horde of people. I grabbed a quiet chair and just watched the mayhem until I was exhausted.

The next day, I worked for a bit and then knocked off to walk through one of the myriad of parks that are by my hotel. While it was nice to get away for a break in the middle of the day, it was way too f’ing hot for late September. It was 95 degrees and humid. Anyone who claims climate change is a myth, I’ve got a sweaty armpit for you. Originally, I had planned on wandering a few blocks over and checking out a restaurant for dinner; but after seeing a billboard advertising Wicked, I investigated. While sadly Wicked doesn’t start its run until after I left, I did discover that Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was playing at the Fox Theater.

Let me say right now, I am a huge fan of the 1970s movie with Gene Wilder. You know how much of a fan of Adam Ant I am? Like that, but with the movie. I can quote every line, sing every one of those songs… I secretly wanted to be Veruca Salt up until the garbage chute thing… I used to host viewing parties of it at my house when I was an unsupervised 11 year-old during summer vacation, complete with Rolos and glass bottles of Coke Classic (for all you whippersnappers out there: in the 1980s the Coca-Cola Company decided to come out with New Coke which led to a popular uprising of soda enthusiasts that loved the original Coke; Coca-Cola then released Coke Classic to quell the peasants’ revolt, quietly killed New Coke and just as quietly removed the word “Classic” on the packaging a few months later so everyone was back to drinking regular old Coke).

Back to my story…What the heck, I bought a ticket for that evening’s performance and made my way to the Fox Theater. I managed to snag an amazing seat in the loge section, center stage on the end of the first row. The Fox Theater is a very cool ornate building. While I personally love modern style, you have to admire the craftsmanship in places like that. They have a huge organ (my inner 6 year old boy just smirked at that) that lifts up and down (the 6 year old is howling right now) and the guy that plays it before performances is amazing. It’s been years since I read the novel and I probably should have brushed up on it because the play was a hell of a lot darker than the hippy Gene Wilder movie. Holy shit, I am here to tell you not to take any kid under 10 to the show. I won’t spoil it for you but suffice to say beware of the squirrels.

After the show, I got accosted by a dude panhandling and when I politely informed him that I do not carry cash, he got dickish with me, saying “thanks for the lie”. First of all, if you panhandle you should be aware of the fact that credit cards and Venmo exist and there’s this thing called Apple Pay. I haven’t carried cash on me since one of the Bush guys was President. I was about to tell him that I was being nice (I even called him sir for god’s sake) and I could uncork on him the raging inner bitch that I usually keep tamped down with alcohol. But I think the look I gave him scared him away before I could get the chance.

The next day I had some work stuff to do but by 4:59pm, I had a Downhome Punch cracked open and started getting ready for the concert. My hotel was only a few blocks away from Atlanta Symphony Hall; but I somehow managed to find the route that goes up the only hill in Atlanta so I was nice and sweaty with my eye makeup already running down my face. Lovely… And the second that I made my way into the venue, I hear someone say, “Oh my goodness, you’re here tonight too?” I looked over and it was the usher who seated me at the Fox Theater the night before. We both started laughing and in the course of our conversation, when I told her I was from Austin, she told me that she owns a timeshare on a lake that’s about 40 minutes from where I live. Seriously, Elaine and I are totes going to hang out the next time she’s in Texas.

Into the hall I went. My seat was on the right side, looking at the stage, and about seven rows back. I sat in the very plushy seat, my feet dangling an inch off the floor, waiting for the opening act to take the stage. I struck up a conversation with the woman who was seated to my right, also named Elaine. She was attending the show solo as well. And then just before Adam Ant took the stage, another solo woman took the seat on my left. We bonded, forming a rag-tag version of Charlie’s Angels during the show, dancing and making snarky comments about the incredibly inebriated woman in front of us.

After the show (which spoiler alert, I totally enjoyed except I was fearful of the militant usher who strictly forbade us to take photos at all and you know my rule-following ass actually handed my phone over to one of my new gal pals to take a photo with – I technically did not break the rules), I ended up chatting with one of my new friends. We decided to grab a drink and keep the party rolling. We ended up going to a couple of bars and then when the Atlanta bars closed surprising early, she informed me that she had a Costco-sized bottle of wine and a bottle of vodka in her room. We ended up taking her booze to the lobby and setting up a makeshift bar on a coffee table. Somehow, we ended up gabbing for hours and the next thing I know, it’s freaking 7:03am!

Dear readers, I had an alarm set for 9:00am to wake me up to get my ass to the airport. I said bye to my new friend, grabbed an Uber back to my hotel and promptly fell asleep for an hour and a half. I’m fairly confident that I had a more rock-and-roll night than any member of the band.

But my tour isn’t over with yet… stay tuned as I try to stay out of trouble on my next leg of my adventure.