Moldplay!

Today I awoke in time to see the sun out for a few hours. While some might call it fate or coincidence or divine providence, I call it my Uncle power washing the mold and moss off of his patio outside the window. Whatever reason, this sailor finally saw some son!

Speaking of things that take time to grow on you, an Austin City Limits re-run of a Coldplay concert was on this evening.

Uncle B: Hey, isn't that Gwenyth Paltrow's husband? Coldplay, right? Which one is she married to?"
me: "Yeah, his name is Chris Martin. They have a kid together named 'Apple'."
uncle B: "Figures"
me: "Yeah."
uncle R: (enters stage left) "Who is this group?"
uncle B: "Coldplay. They're the hottest new band from 2001...2003" Uncle B pauses to watch Chris Martin act like a goon at the piano..."Hey, Nathaniel. Now that's what you need to do on stage! The lead guy is always magnetic. You gotta get the girls to scream like that. You're better at piano than him. pauses again
*On the TV, "Clocks" is beginning to play. ugh*
uncle B: (rises from chair, stretches out left arm, and 'rocks around the clock' with his air guitar, sporting googley eyes and a fully extended tongue) "See, you gotta point like this and work the crowd."
me: (shrugs in slightly humorous disdain) "If I did that, I'd lose all my scene credibility (note: he doesn't know what scene means. I don't care too much about it, but I thankfully didn't have to explain it)."
*On the TV, Coldplay won't stop playing the outro to "Clocks."
uncle B: "Those guys aren't all very talented. You could play like that."
me: "Huh. Thanks."

* * *
My uncle likes Coldplay. Perhaps the bands' stale music is finally starting to come to fruition, and more people will begin to see how much mold they are growing. Mold, of course, finds its home primarily on cheese. Coldplay Live = mega cheese.
Later on they (Coldplay) invited Michael Stipe of REM out on the stage to sing a few songs. Here's what happened next.

* * *
Uncle B: "Hey, it's that, Michael something?"
me: "Stipe. Michael Stipe from RE..."
Uncle B: (interrupts) "REM, yeah. They were big a few years ago."
me: "Yeah, it's been a few years."
*On the TV, Martin and Stipe sing a song about God's love shining on everyone, the effects of which were directly apparent in the living room. All the adults paused to embrace the positive message of the now perhaps-not-quite-so-sin-centered secular world of music...The song ends*
Chris Martin: (in his British accent, phoenetically spelled out for your reading pleasure) "Thes es one of thee bess songs evah written." Martin begins to play Nightswimming by REM. Actually a very good song, but he's over-doing it)
Uncle B: "This better be the best song ever. You can't just say that before a song unless it's good. This isn't good."
Uncle R: (chimes in) "Yeah, when is the melody going to start. He's just singing the same note."
me: "It's a very good song."
Uncle B: "Well, the lyrics might be good, but you should never say 'This is the best song' before playing your own song."
me: "REM wrote this song. I wanted to cover it some years ago."
Uncle B: "Oh. It's not the best song."
me: (timid and defeated) "Well, I like it."
Uncle R: (In response to a close-up shot of Michael Stipe) "He sure has taken a beating."
me: "Some people thought he had AIDS."
Uncle B: "Well, that wasn't the best song."
*Curtain*

xoxo,
nathaniel