Last Friday, Mer and I were both feeling a bit tired, so my solution to the Friday doldrums was simple – grab our friend Zach (sadly, Londa was still at work) and head to Handel’s for some pick-me-up ice cream. It was a good time of fellowship with Zach – he always makes me laugh. (I found out later that Zach heroically went to Coldstone Creamery later that night so Londa could have some ice cream too. These are the sacrifices husbands are called to do.)

But, the fun did not end there. I’d had a date planned for Mer for the last month. We piled in the car, and I drove her to Akron, to the bar/club Musica. Mer did not know it at the time, but one of her favorite bands, Over the Rhine, was playing there, and I wanted to surprise her. It turned out to be a night of surprises.

First surprise: I got us there right when the door opened at 8:00 so we could grab one of the few seats in the club. Surprise! They had removed all the furniture, except for a few bar tables without seats. I went next door to the coffee shop and begged two stools so we would not have to stand for a whole hour before the show started. We set up camp at the very back of the room, out of the way. The stage was only 25 feet away, so I figured we would still be in good shape to see. We passed a happy time chatting – Mer informed me about a woman missionary to China back in the 30s; Mer had given a talk on the missionary during lunch that day at CVCA. Around 9:05, I began to get antsy – the show was supposed to start at 9:00. Mer had figured out from the talk of the many many people around us that it was an Over the Rhine show, and she mentioned something about the opening band.

Second surprise: I had not processed that there was an opening band. My early evening was suddenly getting a lot later. The opening act finally went on at about 9:15 or so, and to my happy surprise, they were quite good. Sadly, the place was now so packed with standing people, we could not see the band only 25 feet away. Add to the mix a bunch of 45-year-old people who were drinking like 20-year-olds at a party, and suddenly we could not hear very well either. Which was a real shame, because the opening act really was pretty good. Still, I thought that everyone would settle down when Over the Rhine came on, and all would be well.

Third surprise: Over the Rhine finally went on around 10:15 or so. Sadly, the sound was poorly mixed. The lead vocals were overdriven, and the rhythm guitar sounded as if it was coming through a tin can. Mer and I had stood up and walked to the front of the room until we were about 10 feet from the stage, and we still had trouble seeing because the stage was so low (we could not see well above the heads of everyone who was standing). Over the Rhine even did several new songs, which was great, but we started to get distracted by the ever-louder group of buzzed and drunk people at the bar (which is ten feet from the stage). Finally, after 45 minutes, and with my calf muscles starting to cramp from standing on concrete, I told Mer I wanted to leave. It was a frustrating experience. Why anyone would pay for a pretty expensive ticket to see a band, only to go and get plastered and talk the whole time, is beyond me. It did cement my determination not to see any music in a bar ever again, with the possible exception of supporting friends’ bands.