Golden elephants with neon eyes and mustache handled doors and spidery glass-less windows is the Fox theater in Oakland. Bizarre and charming, the place set the scene right with an earthy aura and smooth jazz. While perhaps arriving too early (who knew the posted time meant the band played an hour and a half later?), I wasn’t disappointed when one of my favorite bands hit the stage. The band, complete in pastels and Ray-bans, walked in instrument one hand and beer other to a crowd of paralleling people, namely hooting bohemian thirty-something-ers with their loved one in one hand and beer other. Some would say I was slightly out of place but I will assure you I most definitely was not. Serene as I was (no pun intended!) and blissfully happy, I’m not sure quite how to describe my reaction to Beirut. It took me to Poe’s “summer dreams under the tamarind tree” and back to Nepal with the stach-man and from there to the present which is indeed a present. I’ll send my Postcards to Italy and take that Sunday Smile.
Could they have been better? Yes. Did they blow my mind? Yes. Was it a night I will always remember? Who knows, but it definitely made me ever so infinitesimally happier.