Friday Night

Here's a rundown of our Friday night...

We started out by meeting my parents, my brother, and my brother's girlfriend for dinner. Friday Night Dinner began many years ago when my mom said, "%$@* if I'm cooking on a Friday night," and has been a tradition ever since. I was especially fond of it when I was single and poor, and Husband and I still try to make it when we can.

Anyway, we went to Luby's because we couldn't agree on anything better. We sat down next to a large wholesome family who happened to be saying grace as we arrived. So of course Husband is all, "Wait everybody, don't forget to pray!" in a sarcastic, not at all quiet voice. I told him he was going to hell and moved on with my dinner. Then my mom started telling a story about a crazy panhandling woman who accosted her at the mall. "She said she used to have a job, but then she hurt her leg, and now she only has one pair of underwear, so I gave her $10." Right on cue, as my mom uttered "one pair of underwear" the Praying Mom from the next table whipped her head around to flash a dour, disapproving look. Apparently she would prefer to shield her small children from the reality of poor people without sufficient underwear supplies, at least at the dinner table. So I whisper to my mom, "That lady totally turned around when you said underwear!" and my mom said (not in a whisper), "Well, I don't know what her problem is. I was just telling a story. I'm wearing underwear."

At dinner we found out that my brother's band was playing later that night. It's called Black Panda, and my brother somehow happened into the band a couple of months ago when he answered an ad for a used bass amp. They have played a handful of shows since he joined and we haven't made it to one yet, so I insisted that we go and Husband was game.

We met up a few hours later and waited outside while the first band played. I found my brother hunched over a pizza box that was sitting on top of a car hood. He said, "Want some? It's part of our payment." Then a few minutes later a couple of girls walked out. "Um, we're gonna go." At first I thought they knew my brother, but then I realized that he had just chosen their car to set down their pizza and beer. "Could you, um, move that?"

Soon enough it was Black Panda time. The band consists of my brother on bass, a couple of pretty good guitar players, an awesome girl drummer, and the lead singer. I was a little surprised that I really enjoyed the music. It's not that I thought they would suck, it's just that my brother and I are very different people and we do not share the same taste in music at all.
I should clarify that I did enjoy the music until the lead singer started screaming. Then it kind of hurt my ears. He is a small Japanese man who was quite friendly before and after they played, but appeared to be in some sort of distress as he sang. Husband likened him to a cross between Michael Stipe from R.E.M. and the Japanese Johnny Carson character in Lost in Translation.

After they played the last song the band all huddled up and had a little chat as we all watched. I thought it was an anticlimactic way to end the set, made more so about 20 seconds later when the lead singer said, "Uh, that...that's it." Apparently there was some sort of dispute as to whether or not they had played all six of their songs. After the show I told my brother that they should work on something more impressive. Maybe shout, "We are Black Panda! Good night!" before throwing down the mic.

Hrumph. Husband has censored what I was going to say. Even though I was going to say something nice, apparently he doesn't like it when I compare our families. It seems to be a bit of a sore spot. Especially because my family is obviously way cooler. So instead I will just say that I am very proud of my brother.