Pink Martini and pillow-fighting: Otherwise known as the best way to spend time with friends

I went up to Wisconsin on Monday for our "St. Patrick's Day Let's all get together and wear something green while enjoying 3rd row seats at a concert performance of one of my favorite-groups-of-all-time and we'll also imbibe in the traditional drinking of the Guinness (and/or Irish car bombs) without worrying about with all the drunks on the road at bar time because we booked an overnight stay (yes, all of that in one night) at a fabulous downtown hotel" that has been in the works since September.

On the drive up, there was this phone call:

Did you happen to bring a bottle opener with you or do you have one of those little ones on your keychain because none of us brought one.

No, I don't have a bottle opener; I didn't even think of that. I never think of that, actually, and that is why I have 6 cheap-in-quality but expensive-in-price hotel bottle openers at home. I really should invest $2 in one of those keychains because I would have saved a mint by now!

I can't believe we're sitting here with a beautiful hotel room full of Guinness and nothing to open them with on St. Patrick's Day. This is so wrong!

Do you want me to stop on my way in and pick one up?

...Cut to the two of us meeting in front of the hotel gift shop, looking for what will be my 7th cheap-in-quality but expensive-in-price hotel bottle opener. As soon as I hand over entirely too much money for some plastic and metal that has probably been assembled by children somewhere, this verbal exchange occurs:

Did you just BUY that bottle opener?

I thought you said we needed one! I refuse to sit in a hotel room with unopened bottles of Guinness mocking me and the 6 bottle openers I have on-hand two hours south of here.

I was just going to ask up at the front desk if we could borrow one.

On St. Patrick's Day? Do you know how many people in this hotel are actively searching through their belongings for a bottle opener right now? Maybe I'll hang this one around my neck and offer my services. I could make my money back 10-fold when we go out tonight!

Uhhhh....

WITH. THE. BOTTLE. OPENER.

...Cut to us getting in the elevator and halfway up to the 9th floor this same person looks at me and says:

OH, WAIT A MINUTE!

What now?

I think I might HAVE a bottle opener in my bag!

...Cut to me cracking open the first Guinness with unnecessarily purchased and far too expensive bottle opener as she reaches into her bag to pull out not only a bottle opener ON HER KEYCHAIN NO LESS but also? A corkscrew, even though none of us brought wine; for added measure. Knowing that they had been torturing themselves in the room staring at those bottles, thinking they didn't have a way to open them when in fact, they did, was well worth the Hamilton I left behind in the gift shop.

It was precisely this particular brand of tomfoolery that set the tone for the next 24 hours. The only thing missing was someone taking turns poking people in the eyeballs and saying "whoop-whoop-whoop-whoop". Then again, we're a group of girls, so the likelihood of that ever happening is nil. Because we engage in pillow fights like all girls do when they're together.

The original reason for this gathering was not to have a pillow fight with my friends (even though that is always an excellent reason), but it was because Pink Martini was going to be performing in concert, and each time they've been in the area, I have managed to get friends together to join in on a fabulous evening of music-done-well by some of the most talented musicians I've ever heard. It's also one of the best reasons to be in a concert hall with other people who have not only showered but have decided to brush their hair and throw on some dressy clothes as well. I've mentioned Pink Martini a couple of times here at HOJ, so the following may sound a bit familiar...


Pink Martini: A reminder of the incredible male-to-female ratio of my days attending University of Wisconsin, but with less engineering emphasis, no flannel shirts to be found and infinitely more musical talent.

For 29 glorious days in 1999, I was fortunate enough to go to Europe with my oldest friend (of 24 years) and her family. We traveled throughout Italy, Austria, Germany, Switzerland, Paris and London.

I was on a limited souvenir budget so when I saw something I wanted (basically anytime my eyes were open), I only bought it if I absolutely loved and couldn't leave without it. That was a great system to use, as each of those purchases are still- almost 10 years later- absolute prized possessions. I was determined while traveling overseas to come home with some music to remind me of the trip. I hadn't found it until we were in Paris, when in I saw a huge blow-up of this in a record store window near the inverted pyramid inside The Lourve:


Imagine my surprise when I opened this CD and realized Pink Martini wasn't a band out of Paris, but Portland!

I knew immediately, without even hearing the music, that I was going to buy that CD. I was totally sucked in by the Doisneau-esque cover photo. Luckily, Pink Martini is a group of incredible musicians and since 1999 I've enjoyed Sympathique - as well as their 2004 sophomore effort, Hang On Little Tomato; and the most recent release, Hey Eugene! countless times.


Who could resist an album with a title like this?


Oddly similar to every vintage party picture from my mom's side of the family


We had excellent seats, and the show was 2 hours of being blown away by all the talent up on that stage. They played my favorite song, Brazil last, which is good because it is the one song that you cannot resist shaking your ass to. Even if you're reading this thinking, "I never shake my ass", trust me... YOU. WILL. SHAKE. YOUR. ASS. Some people even started a conga line that led out into the lobby and back into the concert, and I'm not even kidding. You can understand why we have such a good time when they come to town.

Afterwards, the 8 of us ended up in the beautiful hotel bar that was spacious enough for us to not only claim a seating area as our own, but also allowed us to talk and catch up in a way that we never would have been able to at any of the crowded pubs down the street. Eventually the members of Pink Martini made their way to the hotel bar, too, and by then we had already made friends with one of the musicians in the band, who just so happens to be this guy's sister. She sat with us for about an hour, with the rest of the band sitting to our left, and the entire time I just kept wondering how it is that we went from not having a bottle opener to sitting with the talented-in-her-own-right sibling of an American music icon. This is what happens every time (I have plenty of stories to back this up) we decide to dress up and brush our hair, and we all agreed to do it more often. That, and the pillow-fighting.

Click HERE to read the only online show review I could find from that night.


Live performance of Una Notte Napoli, from 'Hang on Little Tomato'

If you ever get the chance, I highly recommend going to a Pink Martini show, and do yourself a favor... dress up a little. You never know who you're going to meet.