A Wild And Pickin’ Guy

Last night I went to see Steve Martin at the State Theater. It was not a comedy show, it was a bluegrass show — with comedy thrown in there. He said “I know coming to see Steve Martin play the banjo is like going to see Jerry Seinfeld play the bassoon.” But he is good and will do more for bluegrass music than anyone since the dueling banjos of “Deliverance” but this time there are no squealing pigs.

The concert was great but what happens around it is the real story. First, I parked in a ramp down the block and got into the elevator and there in the corner was a used tampon laying on the ground. What kind of dumb f*ck would do that? You gotta have the brains of a gnat to do so. But on to the show. Why do some idiots always feel compelled to yell something during the show? If you want to be in show business get your own show. First there was some chick in the balcony by me who yells “I love you Steve.” Steve Martin had this look on his face that portrayed the feeling the rest of us had — why don’t you shut up lady. The same lady kept waiving her hands in the air as if he’s going to see her up there in the balcony. Then, of course, there are the loud mouths. Yes, someone had to yell out “Old Mountain Top.” Shut up, this isn’t a piano bar. Do you think he’s going to say “Why thank you I never thought of playing that. Even though we’ve never rehearsed it let’s give it a shot because someone who escaped from a trailer park has requested it.”
My favorite part was when they did a song he had written called Atheists Don’t Have No Songs. It said things like Baptists have Rock of Ages and Jews have Hava Nagila but atheists don’t have anything. The best line:
Catholics go to mass and hear Gregorian chants
Atheists watch football in their underpants.
And to top it all off he did a bluegrass version of King Tut. Totally worth the price of the ticket.