Na milyen ez az érzés, hogy boldog a vérkép?

I've been off-work for over a week now, away on a two-week holiday. Even though I cannot afford a proper vacation this year either, I'm trying to fill my off-days with as much fun and entertainment as possible, despite of the autumnish weather and all the things I can't stop worrying about. 

On the first day of my breakation I ended up going to a Szabó Balázs Band concert with Zsö and K. They are pretty much my favorite Hungarian band, especially since I hardly listen to any Hungarian music at all, and SZBB is kind of the only band I like. This was the second concert of theirs that I ever attended. The first was back in May (or April?), during Bölcsész-days at the university when they played in Könyvtár Klub. The place was completely packed, the acoustics were kind of crapy (even though I don't know much about acoustics, you could simply hear it), you could literally not drop a needle, and neither could you see through all that cigarette smoke. Clearly, Könyvtár Klub was not the best venue, especially for a band that is so popular among humanities students. 

This time both the place and the audience was quite different: the concert was held at Millenáris, on a chilly Saturday evening at the end of July. We were not wedged in between the four walls of a tiny, stale-aired pub, neither were the cigarette smoke visible, if there was any in the air. There weren't more than a couple of hundred people assembled in the beginning of the concert. (Were there even two hundred? It was actually closer to one hundred, I reckon.) Yet, the atmosphere was fantastic and absolutely cheerful from the very first chords. Szabó Balázs was in an utterly entertaining mood, the whole performance much resembled a concert/stand up-comedy evening combo, rather than just a simple music concert. SZB is most certainly not only an extremely talented (or should I say brilliant?) musician, but a hilarious entertainer with a great sense of humour and, as a bonus, ridiculous trapeze pants of his own. 

Despite the previously mentioned pants - or thanks to them? - it was one hell of a fun concert that I wished could have, would have lasted longer than an hour and a half. I bet I wasn't the only one doing such wishing, as there were at least three (or maybe even four?) "very last songs". Seriously, this guy is so talented, with such a sweet, soothing, yet outstanding voice, that I could listen to him recite a washing machine manual, I still would not mind, would not get bored of it; in fact, I would enjoy it to the very last syllable. 

That's most certainly not the muled wine talking in me, because we drank it all - accompanied by pretzels - on that not-so-chilly fun Saturday night, at the very end of July.