guest blog: how not to suck: special band edition

Candace, the lovely blogger from The Misadventures in Candyland, offered to do a guest post. Make sure to check her blog out!


Concerts are like a war zone. Bodies flying like canons, ear drums muffled from speaker shock, the earth shaking beneath your Chuck Taylor's or (if you're feeling crazy) flip flops or (even crazier) heels. If you've ever gone to one, two, or a hundred, whether it's super mellow circa James Taylor or, in my case, a little harder, via The Used, they still share the same basic fundamentals.

Over the weekend, the hubs, best dude and I, went to see my beloved rockers at a small club in Cincinnati with our games faces on. We've seen them before, so we knew the ramifications of being a tad older (only a tad, people) than said general Used crowd. A few things happened, I think should go in the books for all time, to prevent any more mishaps of pure suckage.

#1: Wear deodorant. A ton of tweens/teens/everythinginbetweens seem to think sweating in a sardine-packed crowd means nothing. Like their odor doesn't salt my tongue and singe my nose hairs off. Wrong.

#2: When mosh-pitting, leave your shirt on. Really. Do us all a favor, (dude with the hairy back, I'm talking to you; children amidst puberty, you too).

#3: When crowd surfing, landing in a security guard's lap, don't defend said surfing by saying “I didn't mean to crowd surf. I was just trying to leave.”

#4: If duty calls, do not—I repeat—do NOT defecate, urinate, or upchuck in your place. Haul ass to the latrine and get it done so I don't have to stand in it all freaking night.
#5: Do not attempt to shove your way past me, in attempt to be seen from the stage. I don't need your sweaty body sliding up against my skin, or your wet hair flinging driblets into my eyes, so you can be one foot closer. Next time you try, I'll karate chop your neck.

#6: When able to meet the band, don't steal my thunder. Yeah, girl in front who collapsed to her knees, sobbing, pleading for marriage and babies, that means YOU).

#7: If you're going to fight, please wait until I
return from the bathroom so I can take pictures and post them on my blog.

#8: Do not release any kind of flatulence when standing withing my radius. My nose is sensitive, you make me want to vomit, and I think you should check your pants because I'm pretty sure something else came out too. Plus, I don't want the hubs and my best dude to think it was me as I stand crinkling my nose.

#9: When jumping to “Take It Away,” (or James Taylor's equivalent song), tall guy, please remember there's a five-foot-five mother of one standing directly underneath your big ass feet. I want to jump too, but can't if you've knocked me down and trampled me.

#10: Last but not least, please PLEASE please, when asked to sing-a-long, test it out on the ride there. Warm up your voice, gargle, drink some H2O, whatever. But when screaming the lyrics on both sides of my face, the place where ears lie, you don't have to be perfect but MYGAH, aim it the other way or bring it down a notch.

Follow these tips, and you'll suck no more. At least maybe, a little less...

-Candyland. Out.