Incubus kicked my ass for the 4th time since 2001. Geno (tanks fo’ coming maibuddah!) and I showed up at the Republik and made a critical mistake: we didn’t wear the most comfortable shoes available to us.
We stood for 90 minutes before Incubus went on and then through their 2-hour set. I knew my feet, knees, and lower back would be tested. They passed. Barely. What does it mean that a top-five highlight of my night was falling into my car after the show? It means I am old. Everything hurt this morning and Lynnette was a saint. She kissed me goodbye before she left for work and took the Corolla to work instead of making me get out of bed to move it so she could take the Highlander. So clutch, wife. Clutcher, even, when she give me a massage tonight before bed.
Incubus treated us to hits we could sing along to: “Wish You Were Here,” “Nice to Know You,” “Circles,” Pardon Me,” and the song they’re morally and socially obligated to play for the rest of time, “Drive”. Sadly, there was no “Are You In?” but I did get to see/hear them play “Dig” for the first time. It was a great show, but it was the first which featured more than a couple of songs I didn’t recognize at all. The band’s released two albums since I bought one, and man. It’s really a stunning thing to not immediately know what song they’re playing based off the first few bars. Incubus is probably another of those things will leave me behind – like fantasy baseball and the WWE – because try as I might, I simply can’t keep up for one reason or another. But still, we’ll always have Make Yourself, Morning View, and A Crow Left of the Murder.
“If I turn into another, dig me up from under what it covering the better part of me.”
Thankfully, mercifully Madison didn’t put on the full-court press this morning. She allowed me to wake up a little later than usual and slowly ease into consciousness. I made her a bacon and egg breakfast and tanked my breakfast of champions, Coca-Cola. The downside is now we’re all out of Coca-Cola. Sigh.
She and I spent most of our day feeding the ducks and fish at Moanalua Gardens. After yesterday’s ice-water-at-the-beach fiasco, Madison had no interest at another beach outing. Frankly, neither did I. Geno told me he was going hiking today. I don’t know if he did it, but if he did, I have no idea how he did it. So while Madison hurled handfuls of koi pellets into the pond, I was able to snap a lot of pictures – one of my favorite things to do.
The last time a duck ate out of Mad’s hand, she recoiled – not out of fear, but for tidiness. The duck’s bill left a smidgen of muddy water on the palm of her hand and she had no place to wipe it. As you may know, Madison is not a fan of dirt, mud, or any of their unsightly cousins. I was curious whether Mad would be willing to try for it again, but she’s the one who suggested it. She had some difficulty coaxing the ducks to feast from her hand. Eventually, we sighted a pair of ducks who chased all the others away. “There,” I said. I pointed at the two bullies. “They don’t care at all.” I was right. The puffed their chests out, made some quack-ish noises, then gobbled up the pellets from Mad’s hand.
Not a bad Tuesday, even if my ears aren’t working correctly.