Well, I can’t really say it was the band’s fault. For those people who recognized the songs, it must have been OK, but the sound was muddy and I couldn’t make much out. I figure it was the third time I saw them, the first time in 1992 at “The Bite” on the waterfront, once in 1999 at Portland Brewing’s Oktoberfest, and once tonight. So not much was that familiar.

But the worst part was being treated like a criminal at the Roseland. They have a metal detector and they wanted my Leatherman Micra because it was a “weapon.” It’s a pair of folding scissors. I think it’s a popular thing for 40-something guys to carry, because when I got there at 8:30, before most of the crowd, there were already a half dozen in the confiscation box. I guess aging 40-something frat boys are likely to cause fights using tweezers and scissors.

When I tried to retrieve my scissors after the show, they gave me nothing but attitude.

“Stand here in line.” (The line had one person in it: me. The two 21-year-old girls were just exercising their power.)

“There’s only one Leatherman in here.” (Another guy came up beside me and got his, so that wasn’t true.)

“So that’s not yours? You have no choice. That’s the only one in here.”

Well, I gave it back to them. Who knows what kind of crap someone else used it for? Unfortunately, it slid all the way off the counter into the security girl’s drink.

Oh, the band wanted to sell merchandise after the show, but the staff was busy trying to get us all out of the building. Very friendly people there at the Roseland.

Well, at least I got to see Megan.