On July 12th, Blues Traveler was at Fox. John Popper used to be really fat, but now he's just big boned. And sloppy looking. With bad tattoos and oily skin and zero personality between songs, like he just started doing live shows and is socially awkward in front of a crowd rather than a performer with years of experience. I stayed long enough to snap a pic, but when he pulled the harmonica out it was time to go. I hate harmonicas.
The following week it was Cody Simpson, who is somebody in Australia but nobody in America. Cute kid, and the songs were alright, but I was only there because I didn't feel like braving the crowd for Fall Out Boy at Today and they don't have free BBQ. This picture is insurance in case he ever makes it in America. I wish I'd done that at White Party Palm Springs in 2008 when Lady Gaga was performing five feet from me at the pool party looking like a tragic, melted drag queen with two sad backup dancers on the tiniest platform barely a foot off the ground and all I cared about was "getting another drink."
Last Friday, Fox had Bret Michaels, which, alright, is somewhat relevant if you disregard two appearances on Celebrity Apprentice and the embarrassing Rock of Love career misstep. He looked and sounded great, posing for photos and signing autographs in between songs, although the groupie standing next to me with her husband/boyfriend was upset that he didn't remember her, which really made my Friday in an Almost Famous kinda way. Honey, you were a fuck. Nothing more.
Note to self: don't stand in front of the speaker when you're taking video.
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