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February 28, 2003


You'd think, with an hour of free internet, I'd have the time to write a stellar blog entry! As it is, after trying to take care of bank errands and such and (of course) getting nowhere, I'm left with seven minutes.

So why blabber? Tell us about the Dylan concert already!

Wednesday night, I attended the Ani Defranco and Bob Dylan concert.

It was wierd. I can't think of a better way to describe it. It really threw me
for a loop. It was bizarre. Because it was normal.


Strangely normal. Disturbingly normal. I mean, come on! It's Dylan!

The crowd. Who are these people, anyway? There were a bunch of us from the ice, and we agreed that the crowd was a bit strange. Mostly older, but not washed out hippies at all--conservative-looking folks, the kind who would attend (as Rich pointed out) an event like, say, ice-skating. Perhaps they were confused, and thought they were actually attending a sporting event in the arena. The venue being the other thing that threw me. Definately more of a sports venue than a music venue--seats all the way around, with folding chairs arranged in an orderly fashion only about halfway back on the floor. And everyone used them. The seats, that is. For the first 5/6 of the show, virtually everyone remained seated. The crowd was dead. Some would argue that Dylan's essentially dead, but the crowd had him by a long shot. And we were the last show on the tour! If I were him, or Ani for that matter, I would have just turned and walked out. After all, there are better things to do on the last night of a tour than play to a room (half) full of dead people.

On a brighter note, the last four songs (3 of which were the encore) rocked.
He played mostly mellow music throughout, but then broke out with some swingin' swing, Blowin' in the Wind, another lively number, and ended with All Along the Watch Tower. Go Dylan. Shaky, scrawny-looking legs and all.

Ani, as usual, was a bundle of energy. Dre, if you're still reading this, you'll be happy to know (which you probably already do) that she has a new album coming out, and played one song from it, which definately caught my interest. I'm still on mostly complete Ani burn-out, but I'd definately listen to that song again.

Okay, enough of Beth being a kermudgeon. I'm over my time limit, but will take a couple more minutes anyway to tell you about the recent goings-on.

I made it to Christchurch. This is probably obvious. If I had three color pencils to describe Antarctica, they would be blue, black, and yellow (provided the paper was white). For New Zealand, they would be green, blue, and brown. I should probably throw grey in there, too, after all the cloudy days on the last leg of my journey, but then that would be four.

So in my last entry, I made it all the way through Fox Glacier. From there, I went to Arthurs Pass, but with a very significant two-hour stopover in Hokitika, a small, tourist-driven town on the beach. The beach. Although the weather was poor, I got to go walk out to the beach. And just stand. And watch the waves. And chide them for trying to envelope my feet. I got to listen to them crash, listen to the water roll the rocks against rocks in the sand. I saw the little droplets of water spray backwards into the sky from the breaking wavecrests. This I observed.

Then, I decided to try a local delicacy. I was going to wait until Christchurch to eat real food, but have a hard time resisting local favorite. So, I decided to try a white bait sandwich.

Bad move.

It is rare that I am so traumatized by a food experience.

In my journal, I said, "...but it's the local delicassy. --And, as it turns out, it's disgusting. What is this stuff, and what did they do to it? Scramble it up in eggs and put it on white bread, looks like. Hope it doesn't make me sick over Arthur's Pass." Appologies to any kiwis out there who love the stuff.

On from Hokitika to Arthurs Pass. In for a day hike, and then, as there was no accomodation for a second night, out to Christchurch on Friday. (Remind me to share my amazing kia experience at Arthurs Pass.) Besided, my travelling buddy was supposed to get in to Christchurch that night.

But he didn't. And not Saturday night, either--not until Sunday morning, 3 AM. Gotta love flights from Antarctica. But that's a story for another time. In the meantime, I went to an improv comedy show, saw a movie called "Moody Sunday" at the Art Center, and attended a rugby game (go Crusaders!). And, since then, the Dylan show. And eating lots of good food.

Okay, I'm way over my limit.

Until next time,


Posted by beth at February 28, 2003 4:43 PM


yo? Yao. Yo? Yogi. Yo, is there a Beth out there? FYI - Kansas beat Duke in a fun basketball game yesterday. You can't deny those Kansas ties, Bethie.

Posted by: bill mill at March 29, 2003 10:08 AM

Beth, YOU rock. More than a superloo.



Posted by: Kevin at March 31, 2003 1:46 PM