Foam Fingers

Last Thursday I went to see They Might Be Giants with Bianca Vanderhooten and her brother and sister-in-law. Other than the novelty songs that I remember from college, I haven’t listened to They Might Be Giants a great deal, and wasn’t especially excited. But Anna had told me they were a fun concert, and I hate to miss good live music.
As I was waiting for the Vanderhootens, I watched a guy remove his flip-flop. There was a hole in the bottom, and he stuck his finger through the hole and was casually swinging the flip-flop back and forth. The smoke machine output had seeped all the way into the lobby of the Lucas Theatre. In addition to the usual concert fare of t-shirts and cds, They Might Be Giants foam fingers were for sale. Quite a few people were wearing their band t-shirts, not even worried about looking cool. Or maybe they haven’t seen High Fidelity. The place started to smell a bit like infrequent bathers and feet, and I began planning my excuse to duck out early.
The opening act was a guy that was wandering around the theatre prior to the show, and I had this feeling he was related to the band. He turned out to be a ukulele player called Michael Levitan (no idea on the spelling), who sang earnestly about his unlucky love life. He was quite charming, even though at first I was concerned about his gray polyester pants being too short.
As soon as the show started, the Vanderhootens began mixing cocktails from their traveling kit of mini bottles. We didn’t plan this out, but I had also brought my flask. Clearly I’ve chosen wisely on the concert companions. Just as I was pouring the vodka, an usher walked by and I jerked my hands up and inadvertently dropped the cap of my flask right into my drink. So now I have an open flask in my purse, the cap sunk to the depths of a vodka and ice, and I’m trying to discretely balance it all in my lap. After I’ve gotten myself pulled together I notice the correct way to mix drinks. Put the cup on the floor, set your bag in front of it for privacy, and then lean over to pour the drink, as if you were merely sorting through your bag for something. Ah, to watch experienced pros in action.
The concert, by the way, was fun and unpredictable. For a band that’s been around for 20 years or so, they are still creating new sounds rather than just riding on their standard issue hits. They gave us clear and simple instructions on what was expected from the audience. The first half of the show we were asked to sit in our seats while they played new songs, written about each of the venues on their last tour. The guys were cute and funny and the range of their music was broader than I’d thought.
Our instructions for the second half were to stand up, and the audience flooded to the front of the stage. The energy picked up from polite listening to lively (yet awkward) hopping and flailing. We got confettied, we watched cell phone displays sway like fireflies, and the Vanderhootens and I got tipsy. What I liked best about They Might Be Giants is they seemed humble, appreciative, and connected to their roots. They were generous with their enthusiasm, playful, and don’t seem jaded after all these years.