Dwight Yoakam at Arena Theatre, 12/20/2013
An inebriated, over-the-hill honky tonk queen decided it was her duty to stand at her front-row seat and, with wild hand gestures and drunk-ass posterior vibrations, beckon to the entire section to stand up and dance. Failing miserably in this mission, she simply grabbed her date and they danced -- of course, blocking the vision of 30 people behind them. Violence was somehow avoided.
Even more amusing (sure it was) was the fiftysomething lady next to me who spent half the show holding one hand in the air and shaking her upper torso in a manner that suggested she may be slightly familiar with stripper poles and abundant alcohol. At least that was my impression until I overheard, "She's acting like she's riding the bull at Gilley's."
Yeah, that's it.
I didn't do a head count, but it is highly possible that half the women in the building either came down to edge of the pit and posed for goofy-ass cell phone photos or, unable to enlist a photographer, stood gawkily attempting selfies while trying to make sure Yoakam was strategically placed in the background. Of course there were the bros who had to have their shots, never mind the constant distraction these efforts at photography caused throughout the entire show. Yeah, boy, it's all about the music
Photo by William Michael Smith Dwight's merch table
So much for the hundreds of warnings, signs, and announcements about NO PHOTOGRAPHY. An alien attending his first concert on earth would assume that a) many Houstonians can't read and b) many Houstonians are too immature and self-obsessed to follow instructions.
And don't think I'm letting the men off light here, although they were seriously overshadowed by the ladies. The guy three seats down who looked like a wax statue of Billy Joe Shaver must have gone to get Jack and Coke a dozen times in two hours. By the second hour, he seldom bothered to sit down, preferring to do his hillbilly Romeo glide-step endlessly and block the aisle as he whirled and twirled without once spilling a drop. If he'd faceplanted, I doubt anyone around him would've been surprised.
Occasionally Yoakam seemed to make visual connection, staring at the nearest audience members through the bright lights. The look on his face seemed to say, "So, I work in a circus after all. At least I'm not the freak show."
Review continues on the next page.