Pearl Jamming.

Each trip to Marshall’s/church/pool/anywhere she would let me tag along was the same. She would tell me about what it was like to have a real boyfriend, or what I should look for her to where at Marshall’s as Pearl Jam’s Ten played in the background. We usually skipped #7 Deep because she was afraid of Eddie Vedder’s scream in its beginning. Then, just before we got to where we were going we put repeatedly laughed at Jay Z’s phrase “Bounce, B**tch.”

Although Eddie failed to incorporate the lyrical genius of “Bounce With Me,” fifteen years and 9 collective children since our suburban rock/rap joyrides, my sister and I, along with our husbands, attended to opening night to Pearl Jam’s latest tour. And as a 20 something mom blogger, I feel the need to broadcast when I do something even semi removed from diapers, and since it was an especially cool night, here it is on my silly blog. (Before leaving the house there were three explosions and two spaghetti sauce hands very close to my non- spaghetti sauce friendly material pants.)

The man is an unbelievable performer, and he continued to dazzle the fragrant flannel crowd long after the center’s workers union turned on the lights to kick him out. He invited the Pirates pitcher, Jason Grilli, on stage and drank Franco Harris wine. He told tales of his and Bruce Springsteen’s shared mutual love and respect for Pittsburgh. He continued to confuse my brother in law on lyrics and song titles, and although “I can’t find a pyramid,” (better man) does have a certain ring to it, all those people he called to say “it’s Jeremy!” during “Even Flow” were probably the most confused.

And while most of the crowd would most likely point to the music as being the star of the night, I’d like to point out my sister’s fashion, mostly because she’s wearing my clothes and I CONVINCED HER TO WEAR LEATHER PANTS!! In a sea of oversized flannels circa 1994 which are still being worn by today’s youth although I do believe their social message is one much different than the grunge stance of the 90’s (who knew flannels could stand for so much), her perfectly fitting vegan polyurethane was a refreshing mix of fake fabric, and the gold pointed toe heels stepped up her strut even more.


We topped off the night with Primantis and the men enjoyed more cheap beer.

I tried listening to some of my old favorites in the car this week. I checked the rearview mirror to find Rita’s foot violently kicking, James instinctively head banging with a super serious brow, and Josie with the perfect hair for baby rocking as she chanted, “its party time.” It was truly the State of Love of and Trust.

I’m committing to at least 5 posts this week. Join me!

Happy Weeks beginning.

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