Reason 215

Chick music. Thirteen years ago our rockin' foremothers created a concert event of epic proportions to honor all of the ladies out there who appreciate beautiful song lyrics, sublime melodies, bonding with their sisters in over-priced beer gardens, and rows and rows of Porta-Potties. That's right, I'm talking about Lilith Fair, which, to the delight of vulva-toters across our great nation, has been resurrected by Sarah McLachlan and officially kicked off its summer tour today in my home state's amazing Gorge at George venue. Alas, I am not basking in the X-chrosome love tonight, mostly because the thought of driving over three hours to sit uncomfortably on a grassy knoll with thousands of other peeps with hairy armpits just ain't my thing, but I did enjoy the Fair its first time around and wholly support what Ms. McLachlan is doing. I'm not sure, Jason, if you ever dip your musical toes into the tunes cranked out by the sea of folksy female singer-songwriters, but if you do I certainly won't rat you out to your macho male friends who think "Cum On Feel the Noize" is high art. I could even be your beard, as it were, if Indigo Girls or Ani DiFranco are ever in town and you yearn to groove to some heartbreaking ballads and angry songs about gender politics and menstruation, but are too ashamed to admit it to your bros. Just roll your eyes and emphatically blame me for dragging you to such touchy-feely concerts. Actually, if you're looking for some lady love, vagina-centric shows may be the ideal place to find it since the proportion of women to men, in my experience, is around nine to one. Concerts given by women are excellent places to meet intelligent, sassy chicks who are disillusioned by the dating scene and are desperate to chat up a Muppet-loving, literate goofball such as yourself. Sure these women may have dabbled in lesbianism (perhaps even five minutes ago during the opening act) in order to earn some cred with the hip ladyfest crowd, but I have a feeling that won't deter you at all, Jason. In fact, I bet you're a bit turned on by the thought. I won't even give you shit for abandoning me in the crowd so you can work your charms on some other female companion...as long as you pay for the tickets and use your celebrity to hook me up with a backstage pass. Hey, I may be magnanimous, but if I'm going to be your wingman, I better get compensated.