On September 13 Sugar Ray came to Humboldt County (I'm assuming the band actually showed). As to be expected, there were people who were pretty excited about this turn of events. Why wouldn't they be? We get Kenny Rogers and Nightranger. All things considered, Sugar Ray looks like Moses coming down from the mount.
When I was at the Redwood Acres Raceway two weeks ago I was sitting in front of some people old enough to drink, but too young to actually know better when it came to Sugar Ray. "I want to go see him," the girl said. It was as if she thought Mr. Mark was Sugar Ray, like Mr. Rob is Judas Priest.
"Why?" the one boy asked. At least he had the good sense to question this nonsense.
"Because. How often can you say you saw Sugar Ray?"
And that's the point. Nobody should ever have to say they saw Sugar Ray ... at least not willingly. You can say you were dragged their by an aunt who thought she was being "cool." You can say you went with some girl in hopes of a bj in the parking lot afterward (and you better have gotten one -- a wet one with swallowing). You can say you took your mentally disabled sibling because it "meant so much to him." You can never say you actually wanted to go.
Sugar Ray is the equivalent to a fancy dinner date at Arby's. It is what people who don't really like or know music listen to. It is something you keep on the radio, but hope to God the hot girl in the car next to you hears. (She is listening to Christian Death and has heavy black eyeliner on. She looks like she could kill you, but you'd thoroughly enjoy that slaughter. Her breasts are concealed under a fading t-shirt, but you can imagine the most incredible nipples. And that skirt? Pure sexual heat. If she hears that, the slim chance you had that you would even make eye contact is gone. Sugar Ray destroys all things good ... unless you like drunk frat girls who have lost track of the number of penises that have been inside them, and can't remember the faces of half those guys.)
I, of course, did not go see this. Would not go see this. I'm not Sugar Ray's audience. I have taste in music. If you went, I hope you had a good time. And if you were dragged to it, I hope you got that bj. If you didn't, maybe you should write to Mr. Mark. He might suck just like his music.