...and long haired men? Never mind. It doesn't matter.
On Wednesday night I took three kids to see a bizarre concert featuring tall slender northern European metalheads rocking instruments normally played with reserved constraint.
Apocalyptica were everything I hoped they'd be -- not a single backup guitar or bass or keyboard rig, no Mac running background tracks. Four guys with cellos and an incredible drummer.
I should have brought my camera. That old "No cameras or recording devices" thing has pretty much gone the way of the dinosaur.
Listen, I legitimately dig this metal-classical hybrid, despite being exposed to very little classical music in my formative years. But I'm not gonna lie. These guys are my type!
Long haired, bearded, kinda pretty.
Gets me every time. I confess. I give up.
I like 'em just slightly scruffy. Guys who are perfectly groomed make me nervous... because I'm not perfectly groomed.
I love this one the most.
Eighteen years ago, I couldn't believe how many people asked me if he'd be cutting his hair short before the wedding. I was puzzled by the idea. Why would he? It's him. I fell for the long black eyelashes and that soft fine hair... and his green eyes... and giant shoulders...
...all of which he still has!
I really should post a picture of his teenage self with his guitar. If I didn't have a thing about musicians before that...
Those Scandinavians may be dishy in that statuesque Hall of the Mountain King kind of way, and Johnny Depp may be gorgeous in that Cherokee Ancestry kind of way, but I have the biggest weakness of all for the son of two English immigrants.
(Speaking of pretty boys, I'm going to see my horse this weekend!)