That’s true. We were in San Francisco for 4 days and never saw the Golden Gate Bridge. We didn’t see Fisherman’s Wharf, Ghirradelli Square, we didn’t even see a cable car! We did get to see great friends (though we missed a few of those too), great bands, we ate great food and had a fantastic time … We even got to tour Facebook HQ … Well, at least the food court area of HQ. It was so big that it’s mind boggling. To even attempt to describe it with my 5th grade vocabulary would do it NO justice. Just know that the food was insane, free and plentiful.
The first night we were there, we saw Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings at the Fillmore. HOLY CRAP were they awesome! Sharon Jones has not lost a step post cancer. She was AMAZE-BALLS (as the kids say). I didn’t have a photo pass, so I didn’t shoot any photos, but we did see Creedle alum Cheme playing baritone sax and flute with the Dap Kings!
The next night we saw Dan Sartain open for Rocket From The Crypt at the Independent. Which, I was told used to be the Kennel Club, back in the day …
I wanted to add two more photos – Not because they’re very good, but they remind of having a big smile on my face after they happened:
First, if you look right in front of John you’ll see a stage diver. More appropriately, he should be called a stage-got-shoved-off-by-Speedo-er. The guy jumped on stage, danced around for 2 seconds and was getting ready for his grand dismount when John gave him a shove and the guy went awkwardly back into the crowd. I was waiting for John to launch into his “The stage is for professional musicians only” speech, but he didn’t:
And, lastly, Speedo’s guitar spin … Although tonight, the strap didn’t hold and Mario could have been killed … This is a split second before the strap gave way and the guitar went flying … It happens, but he pulls this off 99% of the time.
Woops, sorry, one more. Who knows what a “pickleback” is? No, it’s not that band that you’re thinking of. It’s a shot, usually of Irish Whiskey, although John was doing it with Marker’s Mark that night, chased by a shot of pickle juice. I hate pickles, so this sounds vile to me … But I bet one of our hosts in SF would like it … YUCK!