A little something about bands

So I'm writing this post partially at the request of my 12-year old sister who feels very resolutely that the world needs to be informed of her latest (and for all intents and purposes, her most) prized possession: a piece of towel. BUT, it is no ordinary piece of towel, it is a fraction of THE towel (which was lovingly cut into two pieces, one for her, one for her friend) used by Good Charlotte when they performed in Singapore last Tuesday. This towel, in other words, contains DNA residue of all the band members (it was used to wipe their profusely exuberant beads of sweat as they performed their little wannabe-post-punk-Green-Day-genuflecting hearts out to a stadium of teenagers whose only conception of pioneering punk music IS Green Day, and who have probably never heard of The Sex Pistols or Iggy Pop...); but more importantly for my sister, it has touched the hands of the boy she is determined to commit her life and soul to- Billy Martin. She:
1) only touches the towel with the tip of her fingers in case her DNA contaminates what has been left on the fabric;
2) will never wash that piece of thing; and
3) is going to seal it in a vacuum sealed bag for all eternity, to be taken out only to remind herself of her undying devotion to the band, and to Billy.

Her euphoria over that piece of cloth was so torrential I could barely contain my laughter (pray tell, how else would one respond to a screaming teenager whose highlight of her year is a disgusting piece of cotton); besides, her utter disregard for the fact that the towel not only contains millions of bateria and germs, but that they have multiplied exponentially since Tuesday, and will only continue to fester in her sealed bag is so extraordinary, it's sweet...

I just hope that bag never breaks...

Speaking of bands, on a related note, Jude and I spent the day in Detroit for The Concert of Colors, a concert/ fair to celebrate diversity and multiculturalism in Detroit. The highlight of the event was Ozomatli, an Afro-Latin hip-hop band from L.A. whose members challenge musical racial steroetypes in the strangest ways: sure they've got two black rappers, but they also have a white DJ, a Chinese bongo player, and a Latino clarinet player. Their music also has Indian and Arabic influences which is both interesting and exciting for a hip-hop band. They were SO good, it's not even funny. The music was awesome, the performacne electrifying, and the best thing is, they had a blast of a time performing. Those guys had fun, and the audience knew it. It was infectious! Jude and I were dancing right through the set (and those closest and dearest to us know this, we don't dance... That's how fabulous they were.) At one point, they got all the children onto the stage to play and groove- dynamite! And they even took the performance into the audience and out into the fair grounds- talk about participatory performance! They really got the crowd moving and jivving, and whipped everyone into a celebratory frenzy- I hadn't had so much musical fun since my momentous karaoke expedition with my girlfriends when I was home.

Good fun, good fun :)