Sometimes life is so sweet it feels like my favorite song is emanating from my heart and playing for everyone to hear. The song is anthemic and catchy, and everyone knows the words and sings along. In case the speakers of my heart aren’t loud enough, I play it a million times on the jukebox in the bar a half block or so down from the hotel where we stayed on our trip last week to Boston. The same trip we scheduled specifically to see Mumford and Sons in concert. Otherwise it would have been just silly to go to Boston in February. (Except not really because I’m a huge fan of traveling in the off season in reasons explained here.)
When our server (Hi, Shay!) asked why we were in town and we told her, she paused, closed her eyes for a moment and said, “I thought so.” In a deep breath, she whispered that the band was in the back of the bar. Having been raised by someone whose greatest joy was to tease me, my initial reaction was not to believe her. So I got up and walked through the U-shaped building until I got to the end. And there they were. Eating and drinking and chatting. Like humans.
Heart beating fast and hands shaking, it was now or never. Fueled by adrenaline, vodka, and adoration, I can’t remember what I said exactly but I know it was fast and apologetic for interrupting Marcus Mumford’s supper. Country Winston was amiable and they were both gracious and I told them that we’d flown in from Charlotte (pretty sure they have no idea where that is) and that I’d seen them 18 months before in Asheville (pretty sure they don’t know where that is either) and that even though acoustics are horrible at the Asheville Civic Center it was still the best concert I’ve ever seen.
And then we became best friends and I talked to Carey Mulligan on the phone and she said she reads my blog.
Their knees were knocking because they were so excited to meet me.
Then the rest of the hooligans got in on the act.
Marcus is giddy to meet us. We couldn’t be bothered to be thrilled.
The concert did not disappoint. It was gorgeous and wonderful and I can’t wait to stalk see them again.
They’ve upped their game. There were no fancy lights like this the last time we saw them.
Aside from the excitement of meeting the band, being in a new city, and seeing a great concert, the best part was doing it with these people. They make my face hurt from laughing.
We are so fun.
16 Comments on "You were made to meet your Mumford"
We are so fun.
Yes, we are. Ho! Hey!
I love it!!! So cool. I think you totally beat my running off with the Barenaked Ladies because of my plastic python pants, (and dancing on a bar.). That is awesome!
Plastic python pants and dancing on bars are my favorite, regardless of whether you are stalking bands. Why don’t you live closer to me??? It is one of the greatest inequities of this life that you are not within golf cart distance of me!
Dude, I’m sorry, but Carey Mulligan reads your blog??!! That is insanely awesome!!
And also, love this post in every way! :)
Yes, of course Carey reads my blog. And so do Gwyneth and Beyonce. They ask me for fashion and parenting tips all of the time. Like too much. Gah. So annoying.
This was awesome sauce. And Carey better damn well read your blog. She could learn a thing or two about class from you. And libations. And Barbie cakes. Oh wait, that’s Heather’s speciality.
I know, right? All class and glamour, all the time up in this piece.
That’s pretty awesome, especially that they were so gracious!
They were super nice, especially considering how starstruck we all were.
I think you just trumped me meeting Bret Michaels. And it makes me giggle to think of what you must have said them. Cause I know it was super cool dorkiness all around.
I’m sorry, but Mumford and Sons completely trumps Bret Michaels, even if you did do it at a Pet Smart. And I have no idea what I said except they knew there was no way they were getting out of there without taking a picture with me.
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