And a gibbous moon shines o'er
blues, funk, rock, and roll.
We had tickets to the Tedeschi-Trucks band, playing at the Sandia Casino resort, a little north of our apartment. D picked me up at work and we went out to watch the sunset light on the Sandia foothills. The outside amphitheater faced the casino and its fountain, with a further backdrop of the mountains and the big sky. While the day had been in the 90s, it cooled off rapidly as the sun went down, and the wind picked up. The crowd was our age, and they were, for the most part, into the music. If we had been in better synch, it would have been the perfect concert.
Still, as the concert moved along, the sky darkened, and the moon glowed, we found ourselves holding hands, and then dancing. This band was tight, and the guitar work amazing.
Her hair blows across
Her face as she rips into
Her guitar and screams.
The seats were not that comfortable though, so we went up to the area above the seats (no mosh pit for us), where people were smoking and forming little knots of conversation and dance. I watched a man walk straight into a smallish woman as he lit his cigarette. She did not accept his apology.
He walks as he lights
His cigarette and smashes
His smoke in her face.
We stuck around through the first encore, but as they moved into the second richly deserved encore, we began feeling our age: hard seats and long nights are no longer something we can do.
So sad.
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