Nighthawks Down

Friday night I went out with Kat and one of her coworkers to see this band, the Nighthawks, play. They were performing in a little venue that used to be a two level movie theatre. They gutted out the lower level and put in two bars, a dance floor and some table and chairs. The balcony level still has the original seating of movie seats. For those of you from Atlanta it is like the Tabernacle.

I was already warned that I would be the youngest person in there, but I thought Kat was just kidding. I pulled into the parking lot, and I parked next to the Harley section. I gently opened my door as to not cause a domino effect of bikes and have my assed kicked by the sweat-hogs. I did think to myself, it was a good thing I wore my leather jacket that looked like a biker’s jacket, so I somewhat fit in as I walked past their leather wearing, Harley mamma, hog riding crew.

I met up with my party at the ticket stand and for $17 dollars we were in. Yup $17 bucks for a ticket and the lady before us was complaining about the price being too high. She would have died to know I spent over $200 for a Madonna ticket, but that is my own insanity. We enter the concert hall and it was awesomely bad. The place had character, stains, a retirement section, and I am sure a little bit of mold. But it was a place you knew only bands who really understood music would even think about playing.

We got to our table and had a few drinks and some food before the band went on. As I looked around, Kat was right. I was the youngest person in the room. Minus the workers, I was the youngest person who actually paid to be there. Well, I take that back. One guy there was about the age of 12. Guessing he was there with his parents and it must have been close to his bedtime, ‘cause they left bout 10:30, so I was the youngest once again.

The band took their place on stage and what a motley crew they where. One of them looked like the cable guy from the Blue Collar comedy group with Jeff Foxworthy. I bet they were all in their 50’s, late 50’s, and still loving what they were doing. The music they played had a funky beat, but with a nice rock back vibe. It was nice to see a band that understood music had soul and lyrics had meaning.

The audience on the other hand, well, they were just about as much fun to watch as the band. It seems to be a member of the fan club you have to sport male pattern baldness or a mullet in the shade of grey. The women just have to wear their hair high, bleached and adorn one of those looks that say I’m really a dirty girl on the inside. There were these two women who looked like the Gastineau Girls from VH1, but they were both the old one. I am sure they were both thanking God for low lighting and the ability to hide in the shadows.

Last but not least, there was a man who was front and center dancing like Elaine from Seinfeld. This guy was going to town in his own little world. He wasn’t even dancing to the music. He was so out of it, but that guy seemed to enjoy himself and we enjoyed watching him, so it was all good!

By the end of the night, I was pretty buzzed and had a great time. I am thinking of going back in a few weeks to see David Alan Coe. Next time I think I may drink more before hand cause their drinks were a bit pricy, but I guess they need to jack up the price to pay for their Hulk Hogan wanna-be of a security guard. He kept walking around with his flashlight, like these old folks are going to start something. Their biggest fear would be to fall and break a hip. Not to start a fight and get tossed out by him.

Peace,
DeMo