Rock local

As many of you know, I never leave my house. Ensconced comfortably in the ivory towers of Launch Day headquarters, I watch — much as a benevolent dictator would — from on high as the common folk go about their daily business. In other words, I stalk a lot on facebook and youtube.

I do enjoy, occasionally, when diapers are in order, sitters arranged, payments made, logistics handled — a night out. Not one of those fake nights out, either, where you unwrap your food at McBurger’s and then plunk down 25 smackers to watch McMovie at McTheater. I mean an actual night out, one that involves interacting with humanity, connecting with local whatever, rocking the night away, with pretty lass (Mrs. Launch Day aka “trophy wife”) tucked under wing.

So every once in a while, that night out will be spent at one of a handful of stunning local music venues, close enough that I literally ride by bicycle past them daily. For some reason that tickles me to no end … me, my bicycle, a flower behind my ear, an invisible friend riding on my handlebars, riding past the same venues that may be entertaining us later that evening, or month, or year … hosting stellar artists, all for my entertainment pleasure, in more or less my back yard.

It’s all local, all good.

And this is the build up to my main point … 20 dollar ticketmaster service fees. By staying local, I never have to pay them. I roll up to the window on my way home, help my invisible friend off the handlebars, pop into the box office, buy my tickets, and skirt merrily on my way, nary a care in the world.

So I was shocked to peek in on tickets to see an artist at the Nokia, and boom there’s twenty dollars in Ticketmaster service fees. Wha? It feels downright violating. Tickets are only $25 bucks … “only,” ahem … and the service fees are $20. I remember the “old days,” when we complained bitterly about two dollar ticketmaster service fees. Clearly Ticketmaster is doing something wrong … I mean surely they should be getting at least as much as the face value of the ticket. If I’d pay 20, I’d pay 21, right? And if I’d pay 21, I’d pay 22, right? All the way up to 25. And beyond. They offer such a valuable service, too, which I may not be able to think of right now off the top of my head, but no doubt it’s indispensible. I mean no way could venues figure out how to sell something as complex as a ticket by themselves.

So, pphbt. No thanks.

I’ll stay local. I see coming up on the calendar … No Age, Thrice, The National, Dirty Projectors. Pretty incredible.

I know, I know. You’ve never heard of any of those bands. Trust me – each awesome, in it’s own way.

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