A LUGGAGE LABEL TIED TO HIS TONSILS

Random thoughts on last Friday's Raconteurs/Bob Dylan concert...

-The Raconteurs portion of the show worked best when they stowed the egalitarian bullshit and acknowledged that Jack White is the only qualified front man in the bunch. That this shift occurred during a delirious cover of Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) made it all the better.

-One of the good folks with whom I went to see the show misheard The Raconteurs as The Raccoon Tours. And sweet underlined, boldfaced, italic Jebus, would I pay $60 to see that! They could just set up garbage cans all over the stage and have those cute little buggers knock them over for an hour or so. Sure, one or two rabid ones might get into the first couple of rows, but that front-row population could use some thinning anyway, so no biggie...

-There’s something to be said for sitting in a college-basketball arena and hearing Like a Rolling Stone performed by its author. There’s something to be said against it as well...

-Overheard, from the grayed boomer to my left: “The only protest singers this generation has are the Dixie Chicks.” OK, first of all: What? And second of all: What?

-AARP card + hippie dancing = CASH ENTERTAINMENT!