They say a picture paints a thousand words.
In answer to the burning question, ‘Gee, I wonder how Ann liked going to the bar with Daughter #2 to listen to all those bands?’ let me just say this:
We arrived at 7:30 pm for Open Mic Night. I believe it works like this: anyone can sign up, you get there and get a number for your band/act which is the order of play, and then you wait.
They had 45 bands set to perform. Daughter #2’s friend was not going to perform until somewhere around midnight.
We sat through 24 or so performances. They were awful. Just a crapload of screaming into microphones and thrashing about. It was terrible. And all the lyrics were doom & gloom — can all of these kids be so filled with angst? Aren’t these the same kids that will be whining to their mothers tomorrow that there is no more Cap’n Crunch with Crunch Berries??
Am I an old fart? Is this really music?? at one point my friends and I stepped outside for a bit of relief from the ‘wall of sound’ — we were chatting about our menopausal symptoms/experiences while the youth of America wailed.
ps. I am happy to report that Daughter #2 seemed to grow weary of the whole scene as well ….
purlingswine 
I was glad to see the small print that D#2 wasn’t exactly taken with the whole experience either. I was afraid you were going to tell us she loved every minute of it!
I went to something like that a while ago. It was days before I felt like myself.
Sometimes I actually feel scared of those angsty kids, even though I know that’s mostly silly. But now I’ll just picture that cap’n crunch thought you had and laugh instead.
From what I can see, the cheerier kids are into Bach. I’ll take five hours of organ music over that screamy stuff any day.