Hangovers are Real

So the GBV finale was about as expected--fun, beer-soaked, celebratory, a bit bloated--but it nicely and suitably capped the career. I don't have anything profound to say about the show or GBV in general, other than to reiterate that the band has played a pretty special part in my musical life over the last 10 years. Sorry to see that end, but on the other hand, I think it's a good time for it. While still a blast, the band's shows haven't been the guaranteed, rock-solid outings you once could count on. Then again, I think the finale was about the 25th time I've seen them, so the novelty wore off a while back. Still, out of those roughly 25 times, I'd say I was disappointed maybe twice, and that's a pretty good ratio.

For a more coherent review of the show, go here. Though it has a sort-of GBV 101 slant (and the writer furthers the "faux-British accent" notion; I've never heard Pollard that way), it's a tidy recap of the long, strange night.

I took five Chasers, and they did not work. Curse you, draught beer. Saturday was almost a total loss, though I did roust myself in time to see the final quarter of that classic Rose Bowl.

In other news, this doesn't make up for Miss Congeniality, but it's a start.