Saturday Night Tull

Jethro Tull has long been one of my favorite bands. But before I get started here, I need to point this out for those who may be misinformed (probably nobody who reads this, but there are many out there): Jethro Tull is not a person in the band. Jethro Tull invented the seed drill in the 18th century. The guy you're really thinking of is Ian Anderson, the vocalist who also plays flute. If I only had a dollar for everyone who has told me, "Jethro Tull....I really like his music." No you don't.

I've seen them a few times over the years, and thought it would be a nice thing for Muffinheadedboy, at age 23, to catch their act before Ian Anderson and Martin Barre became Too Old to Rock and Roll and Too Young to Die. So, along with five other friends, we bought some non-reserved lawn tickets at the St. Michelle Winery outdoor amphitheater in Woodinville, WA. Forty-five bucks plus a $12 "service fee" from Ticketmaster (which I truly believe is misleading and borderline criminal. Someone recently wrote a book about where the service charge money really goes among other things).

Pre-concert at Village Wines (L-R): 1/2 of Rob, Caitlin, Tim, BowlingJoe,
Muffinheadedboy (Thanks to Leftynemesis and Geoff for taking the picture)

We rendezvoused at a nearby place called Village Wines for some food, conversation, and vino. Nice place. Very comfortable. A destination where that slice of humanity once known as "yuppies" might gather after they get done working at Microsoft or the law office.

Under threatening skies, we arrived at the venue around an hour before the show started. Most everyone else must have arrived a half-hour before us, as we parked our blankets plenty of distance away from the stage. We headed down the hill to fetch a bottle of wine or two and it became readily apparent that we were way behind the group of people in front of us in the wine drinking department, judging by the number of empty bottles on the ground next to them. OK...NOW I remember why I gave up going to large outdoor concert venues where alcohol is liberally served.

Our view of the show: at least it wasn't foggy

As the show started with Jethro Tull really sounding nice, one of the morons in front of us clearly didn't want to sit down, obstructing the view of many behind him. We asked him he wouldn't mind taking a seat after putting up with it for a while but he was having no part of it. Courtesy was clearly not his strong point and he appeared to be enjoying his role. It's one thing to be a sociopath. It's another thing to be a drunk. But to be drunk AND a sociopath is simply not acceptable. Eventually, Muffinheadedboy (whose lap he drunkenly stumbled upon at one point) and I had a bit of an animated chat with him. At that point, the so-called venue "security" noticed that there might be trouble and intervened. It would have been nice if they were observant and proactive enough to do something about Mr. Stupid during the first few minutes of the show but they obviously had no interest in doing so.

Oh, well. Nobody really got hurt. That is except for the small gash on another one of the drunk losers that he acquired in an impromptu wrestling match with his buddy. Too bad he wasn't a hemophiliac. The 57 bucks would have been worth paying.

Here's my scorecard for the night:

Jethro Tull Performance: B-plus (great band, good sound, not too loud)
Weather: C-minus (it only drizzled during the last song)
Venue: a generous C (at least from my vantage point)
Fellow Audience Members: .18 on the breathalyzer

The impeccable Ian Anderson (left) and Martin Barre of Jethro Tull