I disagree with George Saunders' recent
editorial in
The New Yorker. I was subjected to washboarding last year, and it was one of the worst experiences of my life. Even worse, the washboarders were total dicks to The Ladybug Transistor, one of the bands these University of Miami yay-hoos were opening for.
They sat on the banquettes flanking the club with their girlfriends who can't dance and 99% of the audience, trying to talk over the awesome band who made the mistake of playing Miami. Ohm except for the fuckface who actually executed the washboarding. He was one of the 7 people actually on the main floor in front of the stage. He carried on a conversation with two trashy ladies, and they all took mySpace pictures of themselves. It was a truly sad sight to see.
There were people singing along and dancing poorly to this awful washboarding jam band, but when a good band takes the stage? Oh, it's time to ignore them and talk over them and act too cool for school.
The headlining band, The Starlight Mints, actually had to ask people to get off their asses and watch their performance. "We came all the way from Norman, Oklahoma to see you, and we want to see you." Sad.
Awful.
