Oh. Hi, Garbage.

You know, between Garbage and Foo Fighters and even Queens of the Stone Age doing stuff this year...I'm likely going to go mad. But seeing Garbage on Friday night in Santa Barbara was "Special." H'yuck. 


I don't talk about my personal life a lot and there are good reasons: laziness, being uncomfortable, forgetting. Let's go with uncomfortable for today. Anyway, as a young weirdo, Garbage made sense to me. They knew those feelings of awkwardness and anxiety and just proclaimed that it was OK to be strange. Shirley Manson, in particular, has left an impression on my life: yes, I have red hair now, but she's made me feel alright with myself over the years. I still find comfort in this band after so long.


My darling boyfriend, who really is the best thing to happen to me, made sure I could have the second best thing to happen to me. He got me a VIP meet and greet with Garbage on Friday. I met some of my heroes. Shirley, obviously...but Butch Vig looking me in the eyes as he talked about working on records...I'm still stunned. 

Butch, Shirley, Duke, and Steve were all so very kind, fun, and generous. And no-I didn't lose my sh*t, at least not until after they each gave me a hug and took a photo. After that I sort of cried. Besides that, I actually asked questions like I would do an interview at work. I'm proud of myself, dude. 


Admittedly, I didn't take much video from the actual concert. I was kind of busy watching Garbage and Blondie, plus John Doe and Excene from X. So, here's someone else's view. I'm gonna go pass out for a quick moment. 

 
Robin Jones

Robin Jones

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