A couple of months ago my good friend Tori mentioned that she had an extra ticket to a Jason Mraz concert. I told her I would sacrifice for the sake of our friendship and take the ticket off her hands.
Because children and jobs make all areas of life inconvenient, I had to wait until the day of the concert, a Thursday, to head up to Jacksonville. Procrastination postponed my departure by an hour and traffic added another 30 minutes, so I cut it a little close by arriving in Jacksonville at nearly 6 p.m. I threw on some eyeliner, we popped into Tijuana Flats for dinner, Tori broke just a couple of traffic laws finding parking and we were in our seats just in time.
The tour is touted as “an acoustic evening with Jason Mraz and Raining Jane,” so there was no opener, but Raining Jane played a few of their songs before he took the stage. It took about four notes for me to be completely infatuated with them, especially the drummer. (Source)
I think it’s because she reminded me so much of this girl from my secret Netflix obsession, “Gossip Girl.”
They were missing one member, but the three I saw were insanely talented and each played more than one instrument. The tour is based on the album “Yes!” Listening to the album, I wasn’t blown away by the band, but at the live show, they were incredible. P.S. Try to be in a bad mood listening to that cd, I dare you.
When the Mrazmeister joined, you know things got funky. Clayton and I went to his concert a few years ago in Virginia, and this show was every bit as fun and entertaining. He is sarcastic (my second language) and laid back, and even in the middle of winter in a crowded theater, it felt a little like being at the beach watching the waves come in. The vocals blended so well together – again, the band plus Jason sounded way better live than on the cd – and Raining Jane can kill some percussion and sitar.
The only improvement would have been a venue with room to move. Our romantical swaying to the encore was rather stifled, though I think we still nailed the expectant couple awaiting first child vibe we were going for. Related: trying to sneak past a row of people inconspicuously with a six-month bump is as effective as attempting to avoid the potent marijuana smell oozing off the guy next to you by turning your head 12 degrees to the left. Neither works. I was so close to texting Clayton about whether or not a fetus could get high via aroma.
After dealing with the back ups at the parking garage pay station and exit, we made it back to Tori’s house high (figuratively…I think) on the positive tunes but exhausted. Bright young minds needed molding early the next morning, so Tori went to work and I left shortly after she did. Panera’s honey walnut cream cheese had been calling to me for hours. I said goodbye to my tiny little roommate for the night and made it back to Tampa so that I could work for awhile before retrieving Addison.
Real talk: I’d been debating going to the concert for several weeks, wondering about some anxiety from the past few months that’s much improved but still lingering in certain situations. While this wasn’t a homerun in terms of my nerves, I’m really glad I went for it. Tori is infinitely understanding about all of my hang-ups. #jasonandjane definitely did their part to mellow me out, too, and even with the bouts of crazy in my head, it was a great show that I’d be bummed to have missed. Turns out Tori’s fortune that day was spot on.