I’ve mentioned before how a mutual love of music–specifically indie and alternative rock–helped ignite the Team MarTar spark. It was something we bonded over early on, mailing each other mix CDs (How quaint! How cute!) long before we ever shacked up. She was particularly impressed when I included a Foster the People track one time, and I loved that she sent me Kings of Leon music.
It helped that we mostly have the same tastes in music, with a few exceptions. (She finds Arcade Fire cringey and isn’t nearly as enthusiastic over the Goo Goo Dolls as I am, while I don’t share her Linkin Park love.)
Before we met, I could count the number of concerts I’d been to on one hand (and still have a couple of fingers left over), but once we got together, it was game on. We went to so many shows, we long ago lost count of them all. The number is well over 100, ranging from obscure up-and-comers playing to a few dozen people in intimate venues, to rock ‘n roll legends in sold-out arenas. Portland’s thriving music scene meant there was never a lack of entertainment; some weeks we’d go more than once, even if it was a Tuesday night and we had to go to work the next morning.
It actually amazes me how often we did that. Now that we’re older, the idea holds less appeal, especially if the concert starts late. (Note: late is now 9:00 p.m.) Plus, we had no choice but to scale back in Rapid City; it’s a smaller market with no club scene whatsoever, so concerts became special events rather than weekly rituals. At least now we’re living someplace where the live music scene is much more robust.
And on Friday, we took advantage of that, heading to Milwaukee to see Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats. It was our first Wisconsin concert, and in fact, the first show we had seen since Built to Spill in Fort Collins almost a year and a half earlier. I’d call that inexcusable but for the fact that we were a tiny bit busy uprooting our lives and whatnot.
The show was great! Nate and his backing band play fun, energetic blues rock, with a few ballads tossed in. If you know one song, it’s probably the super-catchy ditty called “S.O.B.”
We decided to get a room, because people kept telling us to. Sheesh! Actually, it just made sense. We chose a hotel within walking distance (if 40 minutes is considered walking distance). A nice place called the Plaza Hotel just a stone’s throw from Lake Michigan.
The concert was at the BMO Harris Pavilion on the Summerfest grounds. As far as amphitheaters go, this one was pretty nice. There were plenty of concessions stands, though holy concert sticker shock: I never thought I’d pay $19.75 for a cocktail. At least it came in a shaker and was decently sized, but still. Even Tara’s cans of beer were $15. But, hey: we were there to have fun, and it had been a long time. Life is all about occasional splurges.
The whole thing was a rollicking good time and reminded me again why concert-going was a favorite pastime. “We need to do this lots more!” I told Tara afterward, that post-show high (and twenty-dollar cocktails) coursing through my veins.
Afterward we were starving, and had a long walk back to the hotel, but Milwaukee (this part, at least) felt safe enough after dark, so we set out in search of a place. Ended up at Ninja Sushi half an hour before they closed, where we enjoyed a delicious meal before crashing in our room for the night.
Saturday morning we wanted to go out for a nice breakfast, so I did a bit of Googling and we ended up at Toast, a cool little spot with an awesome hippie vibe and (befittingly) a rock ‘n roll theme. My crispy chicken waffle with jalapeno butter and spicy honey totally hit the spot, and that Bloody Mary sealed the deal.
On our way out of town, we made two stops. One of them I’ll write about next time, because it deserves its own post. The other was rather macabre.
That’s the empty lot where Jeffrey Dahmer’s apartment once stood. It was demolished in 1992 and while there have been various plans to turn it into a memorial, nothing has come to fruition yet. That’s not my photo, by the way, because that particular area is very depressed, and pulling over to take a pic seemed disrespectful (not to mention potentially unsafe). We wanted to see it just out of morbid curiosity, I guess.
All in all, it was a great weekend getaway, and the perfect reminder of the role music has–and continues to–play in our relationship.
Have you been to many concerts? Do you still like to rock ‘n roll all night? Who’s still on your concert bucket list?
Mark My Words 
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