2012 in Review

2012 My Year in Review

I began 2012 knowing I was going to go to several concerts, in March and April. We had actually purchased some seats while at the last event, Canterbury Cathedral, while sitting on beds, and that particular event, we had purchased the tickets while in bed in Canada during the previous Tour. All one ongoing and continuous process, jumping from place to place, event to event.

Even with all the planning, we never finish the Tour, the week, even the day, without the amazement at the way things turn out.

I am ending 2012, having just concluded a late Fall/Early Winter Tour, that was not even on the planning horizon, one year ago, and wonder where I will be in one year.

I had a fair idea of where we were going, what we would be doing, where we would be staying, and the actuality was far more wondrous and spectacular. I will keep doing this as long as I have the opportunity. We keep planning for the End, and it keeps just out of our reach, which is fine, we will keep on going. We will stop when they stop. Lucky them, lucky us.

I went to 27 Moody Blues Concerts in 2012

I saw shows in 4 time zones, central, eastern, mountain and pacific. But all in one country, the USA.

27 concerts in 21 venues, 14 states. 15 in venues I had seen shows in previously, 12 new venues. 11 front row seats. Drove to 4 shows after working the day, to 3 different states than the one I lived in.

I flew 4 airplane segments, 4 airports, stayed in 13 hotels. 35 nights in hotels or away from home. Used 3 personal cars, one rental car. Drove almost 5000 miles, flew over 6000 miles.

South Carolina, Tennessee, Mississippi, Georgia, New York, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Maryland, Arizona, California, Nevada. New York included Long Island and upstate, and the Canadian border.

Drove through North Carolina, Alabama, Delaware along the way.

Ate at Waffle House, Cracker Barrel, and various local diners and dives. I had chinese, mexican, New York deli, and southern cuisine. I did the occasional rinsing of clothing in hotel bathroom sinks. I even went shopping at various Malls around the country, and we know how much I am not a shopper.

So, to anyone who thought this all looked easy; this is what it takes.

Hundreds of hours on conference calls, emails, texts and instant messages. All while planning at least two future tours. So, when you stop and ask us how we do it, and we give you a blank stare, we are not being completely rude, we just have no single simple answer. And if we did, you are still not getting one.

Concert going is not a competition sport. I provide these statistics to show how hard we worked, how much pleasure we derived from our accomplishments. Some people may have gone to more, I doubt it, about the same amounts, from the faces I've seen. Some people traveled further, and some didn't have to travel very far at all. Some people paid more for their tickets than me, some paid less. Concert going is not about getting the front row every time, but getting one is great, do not get me wrong, but any seat is better than no seat, I am not staying home just because I do not have a ticket.

Concert going is also not a contact sport, but I got smacked upside my head at one show, and read about it on line, from someone who claimed they were the smacked one. I read another report from someone claiming to be sitting in the seat I was occupying, and adding a disclaimer that if someone else wrote that they were in that seat, they were lying. I read reports that were the opposite of my experience, that is fine, if you liked a show I didn't, or didn't like a show I did, neither one of us is wrong, just had different experiences, and I accept that, I am not calling anyone a LIAR. But I have been called one. I have met some fabulous people, and some not so fabulous people, and a few real lunatics. OK, mostly lunatics. I have been asked if this was my first concert, (no), have I ever met the Band, (yes) do they know me? Do they ever stop and talk to me? (yes and sometimes). My concert ticket buys me just that, time in a space, to enjoy a live performance. The Band owes me no more than that. No autographs, no recognition from the stage, no invasion of their private times. I am an integral part of the touring process, I am the audience. I play my part during the shows, they play their parts, and off stage, we go our separate ways, all as regular people. No expectations.

I have seen people run up to their bus, block it to prevent it leaving, and seen people try to get into their bus. I saw their bus drive right past one car that was covered with writing all over the windows about this Band. The bus honked, the person in the car was oblivious to the fact that their adored Band passed them right by on the highway, maybe the closest that person got to them that night. And no, I wasn't following the bus, it passed us by, and went on to the venue, saw them getting off, wasn't too hard to figure out who they were by then.

I have seen people try to touch or grab at their person while they are on stage. So not good, can cause injury. I have seen people's delusions pop during the concert, when the reality of the Band not being 25 years old hits, and hits hard.

Do I tell everything I have been up to? No.

See you all on the road.
　

Sorry it's a long one

Saturday December 15, 2012

Sorry, it's a long one

I wake up to the sounds of "UgH", "oof", "argg" and that was just from me. "Where the heck are we?" I ask, and get no answer, I take the ear plugs out of my ears and receive the same chorus of "Ugh" and "errgh" back, so the language of the day is caveman. I walk like a cave man into the bathroom, located where we left the bathroom the day before. Somehow I had forgotten that although the room looks similar to the room we vacated, we had arrived and retrashed another room, in another state, and in another time zone less than one day earlier. I walked into the bathroom, and couldnt find the commode, since in this room the commode is on the right, behind a door, and in the dark. Removing my ear plugs did nothing to improve the lighting. I tried removing my eyeshades, but they were never on. I also had difficulty opening the door, and was afraid I would be left behind. We were three ladies, who live in two different time zones, and had been in two other time zones since yesterday. We were up way to early for rock chicks, divas or rock stars, but we had a calling. We each flushed after our individual callings, and proceeded to untrash the hotel room, gather all belongings, pack one more time, and bath and dress, all at the same time. Since we grunted and limped our way through this, it took a while. I dressed my part, and strutted my way to the lobby to check out. We walked past several familiar faces last seen at yesterday's concert, they were watching for me to come out the elevators, but I wasn't giving autographs. Or they didn't recognize me without my spandex and high heels, I wonder how long did they wait there before they left, anyone? I was checked out by some fellow, and if he has a job, and knows about my little habit, is he the man for me? No, despite chidings from my room mates, No, not for me.

We find that although we were not following our usual precision, we were at the right place at the right time. In time to be almost run over by a large vehicle that really should know better than to back into me, because after all, I am Me, and because I think everyone knows me by now.

Off we go, far away from a place that holds nothing for me anymore, and we go in search of the last concert. This was a day I had dreaded for several months. The last show of the year, and I always worry that it will be my last show ever. I had suffered a devastating injury in between Tour segments 10 years ago, and missed the last concert with the original flautist, and while I can not regret what I could not do, I have had a lingering feeling of loss ever since that week. I don't want to miss a thing.

We weren't even on the road 20 minutes, when we ran into other hardened road warriors, headed in the same direction. So not coincidental, but one might think we coordinated this travelling together, we were such a unified group. My side of the windshield steamed up, and the cloudy whiteness spread like a fungal rash on a rank foot, acrossthe windshield, and along the side window, towards the back. I was accused of having a hot flash, and impure thoughts regarding someone in another vehicle, and I assured them that I was not having any such spells, and that any impure thoughts I might be having I was not only unaware of them, but that they certainly were not about any one on the road from California to Nevada this fine morning. I still insist that the steamy window was a psychic link from someone having impure thoughts of me, and I stand by my opinion, and I have proof I have admirers, they show up everywhere I go, and wink at me. Or have gas, or something in their eye, but they are there, every day.

We continue, out of the dry desert, past civilization. We could tell we were closer to LA for a while, the cars got smaller, brightly colored, faster and more expensive. We then entered the mountains. Gorgeous, undulating and folded, sharp shadows and clouds, palm trees disappearing, joshua trees appearing, and the horizon, melting into itself. The sky was blue with whispy clouds, interspersed with heavy grey clouds, precipitation visible, falling to the ground, and beams of sun casting light and dark shadows across the landscape. When we were at the tops of the hills, going down, we could see for miles, and it seemed we were on another world, and maybe we were. Snow had fallen in the higher elevations, and with the beams of light, gave a magical quality to this leg of the journey. We saw people stopped on the side of the road, playing with the snow, they see it so rarely here. I see too much of it at home, and was unimpressed with the snow part, but loved seeing it on these mountains. It was stunning.

We continued onwards, joining up with others going the same way, and finally get into town. I haven't been here in a few years, several new casinos rise into the air. We listen to the little man hidden in the machine, and turn right, stay inthe left lane, keep right, turn left, and you have reached your destination. And what do I see? Looming over me? Three familiar faces, and todays date. Everywhere I go, I can't escape my fate. We continue, arriving in style, like rock stars, or slightly better than rock stars who have to avoid certain annoyances, and enter through the service entrance. I can strut my way around, no one chasing me, No panic in my eyes as I stride away from any wild eyed, wild haired admirers. My admirers are a different lot, unlike my detractors.

So, I am undecided still about the event tonight. If I go, it will bethe last of the year, if I don't go, it will still be the last of the year. Will it be as good as last night? will I be let down, will I get delusional? Cross that line of no return, and enter the dark side? I hope not, I have seen what resides on the dark side, and want no part of that. So, I am handed a ticket, and get ready. I was glad to see where I was sitting, in a seat someone else had assured me was given to a non fan. I am not a non fan, so someones credible source is not credible at all.

Up to my room, and a spatula is used to spread on my face, and apply the spandex to the right places, which caused lumps in the other right places, I could shift around, and line everything up correctly. Animal print day, by popular request. I wore one print publically, and another print was worn privately. And I wore the romperstomper shoes again. I like being tall. I was getting a few looks, though. One problem I did have, was finding the shower on the right this time. I had expected to find the commode, and almost caused myself an injury, half squatted with spandex at my knees, before I realized that there was no bowl under me.

We get to the line up. Some people got there very early, in order to be first in line. I believe that one does not have to be first, just not last. There was some pushiness going on, and jumping the queue. Not good Moody Manners. In fact, there were several instances of bad Moody Manners seen. And I think I have a new personal stalker. I did have several people try to eavesdrop personal conversations. No respect for personal space.

There was a preshow Storytellers, and people pushed their way, stepping over others to get to the front row. I was about to step into the elevator, and I distinctly heard a female voice tell the usher to close the door, don't let her in. I am going to remember that. That was mean. I join up with my friends, the real ones, and we file into the sixth row. We do not think too highly of ourselves to sit so far back.

Once again, we were instructed to not video or audio record the session, as they wished it to remain special and intimate for us participants. Aos, no flash. Did the people gabbling and playing with their cameras follow this? Did they obey the wishes of the artists they paid so much money to hear? Not all of them. Somewhat disrespectful, I fear.

It was also announced that the show was being audio recorded that night.

Someone wants to let us all know she has been to more than one Concert, so we are asked to raise our hands for a concert countdown.. She drops hers at less than 30 lifetime. HA! This is # 27 this year for me. We then continue, many flabbergasted at the amount of hands still up at 100. HA! again, someone admits to over 250, I admit to 327. Said under 30 lifetime concerts lady, "what about seeing them in England, I did that, did anyone else her go there?" Yes we did, more than 20 times. She hung her head, she had no idea what some fans are capable of achieving. She also needed reminding that Concert Going is not a competition sport. A lot of people need reminding for that, and also it is not a combat sport. The man behind me told me I had not life. I chastised him. He ate his words a few minutes later during Storytellers.

And the Talent arrives. Yay for us. Yay for them. Some fun questions were asked. The Bass Player told us why he wasn't using the doubleneck. it is heavy, and his regular bass gives a cleaner sound, at least this is what he said. The drummer discussed bad banana dreams. The guitar player discussed his loss of table manners, as he eats in strange places at times. he also corrected some bad American English. It is "The Royal Albert Hall", and "Canterbury Cathedral" no the before it, he remarked it was just annoying to hear it incorrectly for an Englishman.

He then pointed out that some ladies in the audience tonight had been present at that "Canterbury Cathedral" concert with Ian Anderson, and he thanked theses ladies, nodded his head towards them, and hand gestured towards them, and said that their presence "Knocked me out." And thanked them again for being there. And that show was just one year ago. Lucky ladies, whomever they might be. ;-). Funny how he was able to look over the first few rows, to see us. And us, not waving any banners or glow sticks either, it was amazing we were noticed at all.

(We kept that to ourselves, don't like to brag we knock out Rock Stars)

So there, Mister You have no life. At least in my non life, I impress the man you paid to hear sing tonight.

And other things were said, including the Bass Player asking permission to announce a Fall 2013 Tour.

We File out, with people whom have never talked to me in all these years of concert going suddenly wanting to stop and talk. HMMMM. I need to run an errand, so Itake off my stilts, and run to my room. Yes, I had a room in the hotel, as did many other famous and non famous people.

I was able to return, skip the queue, and go back inside, where I held audience for my admirers and detractors one more time this year. I made my way into the actual venue one more time. I had noticed, that the people who needed to jump in line, and push others out of the way, and refuse entry into the elevator to others, were coveting and eyeing some empty seats in the front row, halfway down, in front of the center microphone stand. I could feel the insane burn of those eyes follow me as I sat in one of those seats. Sometimes you get what you deserve, and karma can be a bitch, and sometimes thing drop in your lap.

The stage is medium height, below my chin, without heels, and the microphones are set a few feet back. The floor seating is a dozen rows, center section, and two small side sections just past performers, with the stage curved, giving everyone a nice view if they had a floor seat, a real premium venue. The sides and rear were elevated, with the sides being boxes, looked like a great view from up there, but I was stuck with looking up at a microphone.

The Concert was slated to be a full two set show, with full roster of songs, any omissions were to be last minute, and not anticipated.

The Band came out, light footed, smiling, and began with power, and maintained it the entire evening. The Middle Man with the guitar was dancing from foot to foot, and we know what that means, and it does not mean a toilet break is needed.

How they can play night after night, year after year, and still make is sound fresh is one of their secrets, and part of their magic. I'd like to think I was part of it, just by being there. Anyone who opted out of going to this show due to dislike of seats, Venue, City, or fear of a limited set list due to its being in a casino lost out on THE BEST CONCERT of the Tour. Ok, I only saw 11 out of 18 shows this Tour, it was the Best I saw, and according to someone in the Band who shall remain nameless, with whom I talked with afterwards, in a non concert setting, it was the best they thought, also, if one of the actual musicians opinions count for anything.

Stand Out moments of the show? The beginning, middle and end, and all the twiddly bits in between.

Gemini Dream, no mystery verse.

Tuesday Afternoon The soaring "AH AH's before the time change were sung in their entirety by the guitar player. He had been opting out at times due to vocal strain and self preservation, During this tour, allowing the backup singers to take lead, since he sustained that injury almost two years ago. Thanks.

You and Me

The F word comes to mind as and adjective of high praise, awesome. Every night its a bit different, in length and twiddly bits, this one was a few neasures longer, and crunchy raunchy.

Peak Hour both up front got on their toes for the high notes "DO OO OO OO! Great guitar solo again.

Nervous LOVE IT Some great vocal adlibs by the bass player.

SIWL

The singer really got into it, with hand gestures, winking and smiling at certain people.

IKYOTS

The lost verse returned, but the last verse was lost. Still fun, and I didn't need the words taped to the floor in front of me to remember them. e lead singer who wrote the thing didn't, either. I sat right in front of him, mouthing along, didn't care, I wasn't singing, trying to make myself heard, or anything, just a fanwho loved the song, remembered when it was released, as I had been a fan, and concert goer long before then, and He looked at me and smiled, at the end. We did our exuberant joyous group standing at the key change, and that made him happy. At least I think so, based onthe evidence, which was a smale, and an off mic "thanks".

TSIYE

I love that song, the bass line, the keyboards, the guitar riffs, from opening to the climatic end, it moves me. Plus, I was a child when I first heard it, and always wanted to meet the man who was frightened for me, and my life, in vain.

YWD

Someone was so hoppity he was almost airborn, and never bothered to fasten that bottom button on his shirt.

ILS

lovely

TOSOL

Back in, no big vocal straining, and the militant minded glow stickers were there, a few scattered ones. dutifully waving back and forth, most not following the beat of the music. We can't all me perfect, but some of us try. I didn't wave one, was forbidden several years ago, when my sweaty hand lost grip, and took out several folks in the aaudience with my errant stick. Will do on occasion, when I feel moved. I didn't this concert.

Driftwood

beautiful

Higher and Higher

Fabulous. The guitar player was on fire all night, and when he played that sustain, it lasted 10 measures, the drummer was poised at his risers, to go back to his kit for his solo, and the guitar player looked at him, as they were awaiting the guitar riff signalling the cue, and he said to the Drummer, "sorry, its a long one." and the backing musicians and bass player had to play on a bit longer, WOW, what a great rendition.

IJAS

Fabulous, but I noticed that hte guitar player was several feet back and not as far over to the edge of the stage as usual. last time I saw that was in Port Chester the first, during a night of security risk, perhaps again? Some people do not listen to the lyrics, and do not Say it with love.

I did hear from a band member that sometimes, when seeing a doppelganger, they can cause to shudder.

NIWS

Oh my, like it was sung to me personally, and meant something. And the vocal flourish at the end, that was missing due to strain, was back tonight, and non yodeling.

Question

cooked

RMSS

I hate being that happy at the end. Just a bebopping away, and yes I do know what I look like when I do that.

The guitar player handed his neck out to my travel partner, and she took his offered pick, he said "Thank you both it was a pleasure seeing you here." I may never be the same again.

I did have doff my shoes again, and was asked to don them for dining, and had a hopping foot cramp, but I figured, most have seen me hopping in public before, and I needed to wash my feet before sleep, it was not requested but appreciated by my bed partner.

And that was that.
　

Time Travellers

Friday December 14, 2012

Time Travellers

Woke up in the usual position, on my side, ear plugs jammed in, yet the ringing in my ears remains. Still feeling a bit off from the show last night. Events are winding down, the end is in site, and I am reluctant to start the day. I need a promise from a reliable source that my Friday will be better. first, I had to find out it was Friday. Again, dining without the silver platter, but a fancy meal none the less, juice and coffee, a treat.

Showering, scraping off the layers of my naturally flawless complexion, and rinsing away the accumulated whatever from the past 24 hours is a chore, a difficult chore, that I had to be forced into doing, with the promise of new and better things awaiting down the road. With the precison timing of a European watch, we untrash the hotel room, packing enormous amounts of everything into our bags, put on our rock star strut just in case anyone is watching, and we check out of our lovely home away from home. Did you know that hotels require everyone to be out by a certain time? We were not the only ones leaving, and we dodge around the other vehicles and take off for parts unknown, where we hope we are not followed by itinerant musicians.

Driving along, we try to find a radio station that plays old people music, and we find religious, and spanish speaking stations, with the odd luck of getting old people music, a lot of Bon Jovi. We know older people, but hwe was a good substitiute. Drive Drive Drive Drive Drive. Cactuseseses, waving at me, I think they remember me from the last time I was through here. What are the chances of running into anyone we know, Right? We wave and continue onwards, and go, and go and go. We stop for fuel, at the AZ/ CA state line, and they had black commodes, very unusal, and a bit frightening.

We go on, continuing until the little man hidden in the GPS tells us we have reached our destination, we have no choice, we must stop here. There was a sign. Those Darn fellows and their friends are here as well. Might as well go in, we decide, and wouldn't you know, the first people we run into, are the folks we know, curiously smiling and waving at us, winking, like we shared some secret, or journeyed together. Suitcase in hand, sunglasses on indoors, and a rock star strut, rivaling the strut of an actual rock star, if I was walking in with a rock star.

Our room is nice, clean, and so far we have not had to ask"What is that smell?" We place our bags in the approximate same place as in the last hotel, take our places in the beds in the same arrangement, and get the room Rock and Roll trashed in less than 5 minutes. There is something wrong with us, it should have taken two minutes or less. Great bathroom, with a commode, white, on the right, in its own cubicle, again, as in Mesa, with poor lighting. I need to know, what am I doing wrong that I need bright light in the commode? A double sink, plenty of room for us to place our natural complexion appliances, a tub, so deep, I was afraid if I had gotten into it, I would have needed help getting out, and also there was a glass shower stall. Like being on display.

After giving the room its makeover, we take off to the casino. Visiting with friends, and catching up on things. It has been a few years since I have been this far West, and I was so glad to see some of the lovely people I had met over the years. Losing contact with so many, as we all go our separate ways, it is nice to see that the music still calls us. and we follow, or in my case, get there first, or at the same time, or shortly afterwards. And rarely, not getting there at all.

We also gained another hour in time, someplace around the black commode. Amazing, pee into blackness, and gain an hour.

We look at each other in shock, we are at the venue, and at the hotel, both at the same time, this hadn't happened at all this recent Tour, and we are at a loss to do, our precision timing and exact schedule is gone, we wander around each alone. I chose not to gamble, as my life is a gamble every day.

did I mention I was in California? I was across the entire continent just a short time ago, and now we are here, doing the same thing, in a different location, in different clothing, with some different people, and I hope a different concert tonight.

Spackle and Spandex to get ready. There is a certain snap to clothing when it has the right amount of spandex woven into it, and there is another Thwap sound when things do not line up correctly, and there were a few Twaps heard, with giggles, and cuss words as we primped ourselves up.

The Concert

Someone handed me a concert ticket I really had no idea where I would be sitting that night, and I was pleased with the location. Front row, two seats to the right of a certain bass player, so no annoying microphones blocking my view. I could also see one young drummer, a locally famous keyboard player, and someone standing in the middle. The older drummer, and the females were distant, but that was alright, as i had them as my primary focus the night before. I am an equal opportunity audience member, I love whomever I am in front of, and I love whomever is singing, and I love whomever is playing with their instrument.

The stage was higher, at my chin level, but I remedied that by wearing 6 inch heels, so that the stage was above my spandexed and supported bosom. Padded moveable seats, not bolted into the floor, and a concret smooth floor. I never wear heels, so this was an adventure into the land of the unknown. With my mangled right knee, my recent broken right great toe, and my left hip bursitis, achieving the correct rock star strut without breaking an ankle, or hitting my head on the stage was a feat to behold. So many present that didnt know who I was, or what I wastrying to do, may not have been as impressed as those who knew me, and my pimited mobility. Some might say that I was being impractical, but I actually was having fun, in between being terrified. And it was especially nice to be at eye level or taller than so many others. Looking up at people who are always looking down at you gets tiring.

Back to the Concert

WOW

A different Band show up. There were several familiar faces inthe audience from the night before, but mostly a fresh audience, many of whom had not heard the Band either this Tour, or This year, so all got a treat.

Gemini Dream, no mystery verse, sung perfectly.

We were in a Casino, 90 minute set, straight thru, with the usual deletions,

No Nervous Gypsies Saying it with Love, ther was no other side of life to investigate, and no one sat comfotably, nor did they drift wood.

The Lost Verse of IKYOTS remained lost.

NIWS

The Best all Tour, with a heat and a passion, that left me verklempt. Teary. A certain bass player appeared as he had the Vapors afterwards, also. usually he instills the Vapors, this time I think I gave them to him.

The fellow in the middle looked to his left, towards me a lot all night, and smiled, maybe had a crick in his neck? or Gas? Or was Glad to see me, to have me there? I know what I think, and I hope you do too.

RMSS, why people question that as the end? Such a fun happy way to leave the concert. Everyone was talking about the show on the way out, second best show I saw this Tour.

It had heat, fire, that kapow factor, and left me a bit emotional, a bit teary, in a good way. This is why I go to multiple shows, I want that great concert experience, and I found it tonight.

A very scary walk on my stilts to get to our meeting place, where a committee meeting was taking place. What to eat, where to sit, who sits were. I had a margarita and sat down. I waved good night to all who walked by, the ones I have been traveling with, and the ones I met along the way, and we go off to our room, and sleep.
　

Deja vu all over again

Thursday December 13, 2012
deja vu all over again
I wake up in roughly the same position I woke up in less than 2 weeks ago,  and with the same other people in their same positions. Suitcases in the same locations. One would think we make diva like requests when reserving hotel rooms, so that no matter where we are, we know were everything is. No, "where are we anyway?" is asked quite early in the day, as early as we could, with slow inching open of the curtain to let in small bits of light, to not shock our delicate systems. The view is interesting, sharply pointed brown mountains, chain stores and paved roadways. We were last near a major North/South interstate, now we are accessable near a major east/West interstate.  We take turns investigating the plumbing, and I know I needed a good dose of sudsing and rinsing, and repeating to wash off the jet lag.  I feel like I was at that 12-12-12 concert, with sore muscles, ringing ears, and the nagging feeling that I was near someone famous, who sings some song I can not recollect right now. since silver platter room service was not included, we find a place to partake of morning sustenance, and strong coffee, that did not live up to it's promise.  I needed a nap after all that caffeine, but also  needed to vacate the room, so I was stuck. We found a place to wander around for a few hours, I resisted temptation to spend money, as I was actually not tempted at all, and the lack of funds to pay for what I didn't need finalized my decision.
What does one do when one doesn't have access to a fluffy bed? and has nothing to do for a few hours? One finds a seat near a tree, and reads. And people watch. Amazing people here, of all sorts of shapes and sizes, some really tall, some not tall at all, some smilng, and some with a scowl as they go about their way, no noticing the lovely surroundings. They might be more accustomed to this  than I am, cacti and palm trees with Christmas decorations is new to me. I do not get out much. last December I saw Christmas in England, this Year, in the Southwest, amazing the places I go. So, a boring afternoon turned into an interesting afternoon. I even gave people directions, as if they new and trusted me to tell them the right thing.
On to the Show. Once again, I find myself in the vicinity of pensioner musicians in search of an audience, and how can I refuse? They follow me everywhere. The Evening arrived dark, and drippy, with a soft rain.  It rains how many days a year out here in Phoenix? and me without and umbrella, as seriously, who packs an umbrella on a trip to the desert? someone much more prepared than I, it seems. Or someone afraid of melting if they get too wet, or near a flame.
Flat, straight roads, flat, flat, without even a crack or pothole in the pavement to give the ride any excitement. The ride is longer than I expected, as the Metro area is one big sprawl, with no definition between cities, Scottsdale, Glendale, Tempe, Phoenix, Mesa, all the same to me. The Venue is a modern clean looking facility in a small plaza on a city street, the area not too dodgy, hotels, motels nearby, within walking distance, if one was prepared with an umbrella during a rain storm in the desert.  Once again, the Venue is following the practice, of keeping the patrons milling around in a limited lobby area, to purchase drinks and merchandise, with the lines extending outwards, snaking around; one makes new friends this way, squeezing past, to get to the restrooms.  Speaking of which, were extremely well lit, with modern, bowl like wash basins, but extremely dark at the stalls. Do they feel women do not need to see what they are doing in the cubicles? My eyes hurt as they contracted suddenly as I emerged from the dark stall to the bright washroom. And they continued to hurt as I viewed the audience for tonights musical revue and audio spectacular.
At first, I was gladdened to not be seeing the same faces as I had left behind, on the Atlantic Seaboard oh so many days ago, as I didn't wear my same face either. Did see a few familiar faces that I remember from other adventures to this area, and a few faces that I have seen all over the world, and those were the most friendly. I did see others that were decidedly not friendly, but familiar. Were they that surprised that I was here? and what were they doing there? Escaping my scrutiny? Didn't work, I saw you, and I saw you avoid my glance.  I saw ladies dressed in renaissance fair wear, and if anyone thought that was me, shame on you. I saw a few surgically altered faces, being a nurse I can spot non natural skin folds, and the tell tale scar hiding hair style gives it all away. I know, you wonder how I can appear in public looking like me, but luckily, I do not have to look at me, just like me. There was someone in the front row in dirty ill fitting clothes, and unwashed hair. Now the natural look is a lifestyle, one, I choose not to embrace, but since when did they run out of soap in Mesa?
 They finally let us into the venue itself, and I find my seat.
The hall itself is a large open modern facility, of pale wood, with a hard wood floor, making walking in heels a bit difficult, for those of us mobility challenged. The Stage is low, about bosom height, if one has my bosom, and enough foundation garments on to keep the bosom off the knee caps. The lights are higher up than usual, this being a more modern facility than some of the grand old theaters we have been in, and the Band is fairly close to the edge of the stage. I watch as people go to their seats, or to seats in wich they wish to seat, and made valliant attempts to stay in them for the entire show, despite sucurity asking tme to return to where they belong. I had a seat, not in the front row, in the second, but was so close to the stage, closer than some front row seats at some venues.  I am aware that there were a few complaints from back in the 7th or 9th row, that rude people were standing in the front, I can assure you that I was no ruder than normal, part of my new plan to be nicer to people, and since the folks on the stage have known me longer, and better than anyone else at the concert, including my anonymous room mates, I made an executive decision to be appropriate in the standing songs.  Also, there was one person that kept flinging heavy rings onto the stage at the guitar players feet, then retrieving them, doing this over and over, eventually the rings got lost in the strange fog of life. She was escorted away after a while. I worried for the less agile of these fellows, as they danced around; it took some of the fun out of the night worrying, but no one got hurt, thank goodness. One ring to rule them all? Some of the audience members did have a hobbitty look to them.

The Concert
The Show began, and the mix was off. There were no feed speakers for the front, and the hanging banks of speakers were quite high, and pointed out towards the audience at the mid and back of the venue, leaving the front and orchestra pit uncovered. The microphones were off for the first two verses of Gemini Dream, so unsure if any mystery verse occured, but at the spot where often one can chose which singer to listen to, both were singing the same song.
The mix remained off to my ears for the majority of the concert, but I didn't mind much, I had flown thousands of miles, paid for a ticket, lodgings etc, and expected something better, but I got what I paid for, a concert. From my seat, I could hear the unamplified vocals, and the guitar feeds from the Fender and marshall stage speakers, and the acoustic drums, not the digital cymbals, and little bass or keyboards, made for a different auditory experience. There didn't seem to be the wow factor, either, perhaps everyone is tired? or my menories of just a week ago are enhanced by the exaggeration of memory. Not that it was a bad concert, my brain was able to fill in the missing bits, and I enjoyed hearing the bits I usually miss, and to the general audience, it was a good show, just not the concert I expected, perhaps I expected too much, or had jet lag, either way, it was noticeable to some.
As I have said, if you want a good concert, be a good audience, and if you want a good audience, be a good Band.  There was effort, it fell a bit flat at times. But everyone tried.
There were some lyrical interpretive dancing, most of which was on display the first half, with hand gesturing that appears as if offerings were being made at some religious ceremony, very distracting, and I would have been upset, too if that was in front of me, taking something away from the night.
The missing verse of IKYOTS was in, for those who lack the courage, but No one knows its gonna happen, or feel it coming near.
We Drifted wood, and there was no other side of life to investigate.
NIWS was lovely, but no heat or heart, and Question was rushed. The whole concert felt rushed, like Atlantic City felt two weeks ago, but RMSS redeemed them in my eyes, as a certain bass player saw fit to bop me off the head with his headstock, always fun.
A trot along wet pavement, and a drive to our anonymous digs, the people of Phoenix do not know how to drive on wet pavement, and off to sleep, and even though we went to bed early, I bet we were awake longer than rock stars.
I still don't have a cold, and neither does anyone else, despite some lingering evidence, and we smelled nothing. Phoenix is remarkably odorless.

Oh No Let'sGo

Oh No Let's Go

Some days are just too full of the vicissitudes of life that make an observer like me wear a  grin with a devilish gleam in my eye. Some may even hear the chuckle of my inner dialog. Where do I begin? Running mundane errands, and able to splice my alternative life into it without trying? Having pleasant conversations with the people you meet around town?
I take a taxi to the bus. Boring? Ordinary? no, I got a luxury car ride, as the regular taxi cabs were shuttling people back and forth to the Mall, shopping, I find out that people would rather have curb service, than search out a parking spot. I am filing that away for the next time I am overwhelmed with the need to participate in a commercialistic ritualistic merchandise expedition. I actually rather enjoy the hunt for a parking spot, and the sitting in said spot waiting to see how many people ask me if I am vacating it. I like waiting for the right person, polite, slightly timid, deserving.  I dislike greed and entitlement, but back to what I was up to today.
The afternoon coach to the airport was devoid of anyone except me, and the driver, and I enjoy watching the sun set over the fuel dump and oil tanks, sorry I didn't snap a quick picture, one doesnt see this too often, not when home, these are the things I like when traveling, and I remind myself that I am officially back on the Tour, even if 2500 miles from anything important.  I hand over my trusty little suitcase to the uniformed and pleasant airline worker. I am making it a point to be extremely pleasant to all workers this week, saving my usual sourness for civilians, we shall see how this turns out. She reprints my boarding pass for me without my asking, and directs me towards security.
Well, it is Stupid People Fly Day in Boston. Why I don't check these things out ahead of time is beyond me. The girl in front of me keeps stopping short, and backing up, and swinging her duffel bag around, causing me to jump back, and swivel to avoid a black eye. While a black eye may improve my looks, I don't want one at this moment, and spoil the chances to get one while at a concert. I finally catch the eye of a TSA agent, who flinches as I nimbly sashay around Miss Duffel, and cut to the head of her queue. Miss Duffel is right behind me, with absolutely no respect for personal space, hitting my behind with her duffel.  Frontal and now posterior assault, and haven't even been offered a drink yet. Not that an arrogant 20 something female is my type.
I finally ditch my nemesis of the hour and get into a security line with a lovely lady much like me in front of me. We both have little netbooks, boots, and coats and scarfs to doff, arrange correctly into the bins provided, and we know how to stand in the little yellow footprint provided to await out turn to be irradiated. She admired my choice of matching hair and nail color, as I bemoan the broken nail I suffered at the hands of Miss Duffel. I make it through the full body scan without setting off alarms, either of the electrical or horrified nature, gather my cheap electronics, knock of purse and coat, and  my no animals products used in the making of these boots, pull myself back together, and make my way to the furthest gate possible, past a few questionable smelling food emporiums, and seek out a spot, with electrical supply. I glower at anyone coming near me, to save the other half of the spot for my anonymous travel partner.
 I am amazed at the type of people who chose a cut rate carrier.  Cheap luggage abounds, and also cheap cell phones. The kind that were given out for free several years ago, do they still work? I chose a plane because it will get me to where I need to go. I also used to choose cheap luggage until I found myself being paged at an airport, with an exploded and shrink wrapped bag awaiting me. Now I pack my cheap clothes into an expensive suitcase, use my iphone, fly on cheap carriers, to go to dubious locations and dodgy lodgings. Or not.
So, boarding the plane we find a lady in our seat, as she is unable to differentiate the letters "C" and"D". She is hustled into her own seat, and I proceed to practice trashing a hotel room by trashing my airplane seat. We have no one between us, so we take it over, bags, snacks, clothing items, head phones. I had planned to sleep this flight, exhausted myself so that sleep would come easily, but alas, we had satellite television, and the 12-12-12 concert was on, all my old friends, a veritable collection of skinny old Englishmen, not the ones I am fondest of, but fascinating me sufficiently enough to keep me captivated as we flew over Ohio, Illinois, Kansas, waving at all our friends on the ground.
My seat was broken, it stayed reclined, would not lock in its upright position, but  I managed to survive takeoff and the flight unscathed, until it was time to land. I was forced to sit in the trashed middle seat. The TV wasn't working, so I had to watch Paul McCartney on one set, and have my earphones plugged into another, probably breaking several federal regulations, but, Hey, its a Beatle, and I almost didn't notice the landing.
Off the plane, and there is a rule that mobility challenged people deplane last, so why was there a wheel chair blocking us? We had a desperate need to get to a bar for a drink. At Baggage claim, I decreed that our bags be first, and they were! Since I had checked in an hour earlier, this was proof that karma was working on our side, or that the airline was eager to rid itself of our rock star diva trashy behavior.
Another bus to the car rental desks, and after initialling the box to ok the rental, signing the line to ok initialling boxes, and initialling the signature line to initiate the signing process we are directed to a line of cars, and asked to chose one. I chose the red mustang convertable, but they wouldn't give it to us. We took whatever car the suitcases would fit into, and after another identification check, and a set of locks to rival the Panama Canal, or Alcatraz, we are off! We find our hotel, tucked away, and we tuck ourselves in for the night, just like rock stars, we need our sleep.
I did get my drink.

banned in Baltimore

Saturday December 1, 2012

Had been doing very well with the "What's that smell?" phrase of the week, only had to say it as we barrelled into Atlantic City last night. We had a thoroughly trashed hotel room, in the true rock and roll tradition, food wrappers, scattered clothing and unmentionables underfoot, and the required chorus of ow's, ouch's, ugh's, and oof's. I have it on good authority that prior to our awakening, that various tonsorial snorts and snores were heard, in the best tradition of the Anvil Chorus. Ah, the glamorous life, are you jealous yet? We just do not magically appear at each venue fresh and ready to go. It takes caffeine, and spandex, and a lead footed driver.

This is the first morning we oversleep, and have the most difficulty getting ready. Some of us needed a carrot dangled in front of use as enticement. I needed a bagel. Our numbers had slowly increased during the week, each one duly noted, and welcomed, with the last one arriving days later than expected. Thoroughly scolded by someone affecting a funny accent.

We say goodbye to November with sadness, as the events can never be relived again, the sounds heard, never heard in the same way again, meals eaten, secrets shared, all unexpected, and not even on our itinerary. And I got a new pair of black boots!

I apply my flawless natural complexion using expensive products found in jars, and expletives found in my mouth. Foundation garments and hopping about to get the right effect, making sure that nothing jiggles in the wrong places, since most jiggling body parts are usually in the wrong place, and off we go.

Waving goodbye to all my fans, friends and family, or perfect strangers looking at me oddly, we pack ourselves into the car. It is amazing what determined well dressed ladies can accomplish when the right carrot is dangled. Like origami cranes, we folded ourselves in just the right places to not show creases, and off we went, across several state lines again. They may be small states, but they are different ones, and we got to play the "what's that smell?" game while simultaneously playing "Where are we anyway?" would you be surprised if we ran into anyone we knew along the way?

Baltimore. Near the Capitol of the USA, but not quite the same. Where the Francis Scott Key wrote the words to "The Star Spangles Banner" and where I was called a streetwalker in 2008. AHH the good old days. There was a chance to purchase a photo with whatstheirfaces, but I declined, and bought a lesser priced seat, as I had been photo'd for free before, and figured others needed the opportunity more than I did. And really? I should charge for photos, it looks lucrative. But I keep doing it for free, alas, more missed chances to make a profit. Then I sat in the only row I ever sat in at this venue, the front row. I am ready to perform.

This was as perfect a concert as I hope to hear this past week. This is why I relentlessly and obsessively go to multiple concerts, I do not want to miss this. Was it perfect? no. but it sizzled from beginning to end, there were genuine smiles and off mic grunts and oohs during the show. I have been to many shows, I now the difference between a show smile, and a genuine smile, and tonight we got the real thing. People were quite pleased with their performances. There was no mystery verse in Gemini Dream, there was a sing a long in Question, and the audience was fabulous.

I remember that in 2008 I was glad I had made the trip to Baltimore, despite the rude greeting I had received from someone I reached out to, in friendship, and I was a bit leary, looking at all the business suits walking in. It was a rare audience member that I saw in obvious lack of undergarments; not too many hippies returning to their youth tonight. Or so I thought. These uptight politicians and business people rocked. Up, cheering and applauding at every opportunity. Like I say all the time, if you want a good concert, be a good audience. The concert was effortless, a joy. Did I mention it was a good concert?

IKYOTS

The standing was from the beginning, everyone was up. I noticed that the several layers of foundation garments under my skinpy dress were shifting. Really shifting. If I didnt get to the ladies soon,there would be a few less mysteries left in life to ponder. Especially upsetting for a couple of older men with guitars feet from me. I didn't want that on my conscious. But how could I sit? And TSIYE? No way. So, if anyone thought my gyrations were worse than normal, it was all deliberate, choreographed to keep my hosiery from hitting the floor. A knocked kneed trot through the audience to the ladies at half time followed.

Why do people congregate to the stage during half time? and Why do they dislike my getting back to my seat? And to the lady that asked? It is fabulous to sit here. And no, I do not worship anyone, they are not gods, they are people. And I am getting rather fond of them, will miss all this when it is over.

So, we leave this great place, where although I dressed the part, was not called a streetwalker this time, at least not to my face,. We continue onwards, towards home, remembering that that smell is in Delaware, and not New Jersey, and we go onwards, stopping only when we reached the breaking point, and a place without a bad smell. I play the princess, and wave to my constituents, wishing all a good night.

And I still do not have a cold, nor does someone else.
　

That City By the Sea They Call Atlantic

Friday November 30, 2012

That City by the Sea they Call Atlantic

I wake up, I have no idea where I am. The bathroom is gone, there is someone in my bed, and I am tring to remember what it was I had to do. Oh, yes, the last concert in November, the last concert in New Jersey, and the first time I have been to Caesars since 1999, funny, many of the same people are scheduled to appear there again. That happens to me so often, it has become the norm.

Showering is not an option, it is a mandate. And the daily chorus of oww, ooh, and oofs are augmented by nasty words your mother won't let me say near you. And it brings to mind that taking drugs while on a rock tour was once recreational, and gave you funny feelings, now it is by prescription, and takes all the funny feelings away. So now, smelling of sunshine, all polished and primped, we go off to the local food emporium, to sample the delights being offered this fine day. That rock star strut loses definition when the pills haven't kicked in yet, and you are carrying a plastic food shop bag. But I persevere, my days are numbered, there are more behind me than in front of me; what I had anticipated and planned for months has occurred, not in the planned way, and despite several changes mid point, we are still pleased with where things have ended up.

Some people whistle and hum throughout their day, some of us say bad words.

Some of us have no clue. What state are we in ? Confusion?disillusion? Disarray? Sometimes even Satellite Navigation can not help the situation. Whose Idea anyway was it to do all of this? They need a scolding. They should update us on these change in plans quicker than light speed. So we end up driving at light speed to get to where we were going. Finding a parking spot was exciting. We found out someone knows bad words. I am sure that the people in the security office manning the camera monitors found our run through the casino amusing. I hope we do not end up on YouTube. We arrive, exactly and precisely when we were needed to be there, and our entry cued the talent to take the stage. You would think that after all these years, I am now The VIP worth waiting for. And perhaps I am.

Atlantic City New Jersey.

Still there. And still attracting the same sorts of people. And other humanoids passing as humans. The Venue is an intimate setting, with a low stage, nearer my hips than waist, or the knee caps of a regular person. The Band is able to be placed close to the edge of the stage. Good for some, not for others. The Venue/ promoter added two rows to the front, seats that neither showed up as for sale, nor were given out as comps, and were empty, so the enterprising, the nimble, the quick, the human and humanoid, and the arthritic were able to sit right at the stage. There is a rumor that a certain Band member is not pleased with certain fans, I can assure you it isn't me, and you can not convince me otherwise. Someone still doesn't have a cold, and neither do I.

A typical heavily truncated casino set list, and less enthusiasm than the night before, but enough was around to get the job done.

Gemni Dream

No mystery verse

The Voice

standard

Slide Zone

ok

You and Me

Not as good as the Capitol first night, still the best concert so far this tour

Tuesday Adternoon

well received

There were no Nervous Gypsies Saying anything with Love

Peak Hour

I like the guitar solo

IKYOTS

There was no need to look to far to find anyone tonight

TSIYE

Folks, remember, if you want a lively concert, be a lively audience, Atlantic City was a bit disappointing.

YWD

ok, and no one really knows what my wildest dreams are

ILS

a little too long tonight. as if it were played a tad bit slower, or maybe it was a time distortion brought on by too darn much fog machine.

Once again there was no Other side of Life. Not that I was sorry, I had investigated enough already that day.

Higher and Higher

Some people were lower and lower, sitting in their seats

No one was sitting comfortably, must have been they were sitting on the missing Driftwood.

IJAS

OH, I think your more than that, at least I think you must be.

NIWS

Pulled that out of hiding again last night

Question

How some people managed to wedge themselves into a few inches of available space at the stage is always an amazing sight to behold

RMSS

If only, it might be a better way to get around.

In Conclusion, this ended my attending every Moody Blues concert in November 2012. I attended all but 1 concert in New Jersey in 2012, and I attended all but 1 concert in New York State in 2012, and I attended every concert in Pennsylvania in 2012. just off the top of my head.

As for being spoiled? I am not spoiled, I am still perfectly well, thank you very much. As for "Deserving" anything? My ticket to a concert buys me just that, a seat at a concert, no one in the Band owes me more than that, and anyone looking for more than that, may be better off staying home, watching a DVD. They are cheaper, can be placed on pause, and no one stands in front of you.



　

Better Than Bob Dylan

Thursday November 29, 2012

Better Than Bob Dylan.

In all seriousness, I wondered how people were taking me, and I have found mostly positive support, and one hurting criticism that my posts were not straight forward enough reviews. I never said they were, this is just my take on where I am, and what I am doing. So, if humorous anecdotes fly past you like a bug off the windshield of a Semi, stop reading, and correcting me.

Back to life using the lessons I have learned while listening to music.

Thursday, and many of us still do not have colds. Which is a good thing, considering how close we are, living out of suitcases and a car. Again today is not the day where the phrase "what is that smell?" is not used. Burnt toast, and baked fish, I believe we voted as being the odor of the morning. Today is also go someplace else day, and the appropriate packing is done, and there is enough room for me in the back seat, I am not on the roof after all. Off we go, saying goodbye to all our friends and surroundings, seems so much like home, and maybe it is, to some. The traffic is so backed up that walking across two state lines on the rooftops of the vehicles looks to be a better way to get to Newark. Good thing I am not on the roof, although I might have made some new friends that way. We glamour up in a public restroom, because we are just those kind of people, actually we didn't want to be uncomfortable all day in our night clothes. Some may argue that dressing up is impractical, and that a comfy tshirt and jeans is the way to go, but we are not that kind of people either. So, all spiffed up we get, and off we go, to sit in traffic from the Bronx to New Jersey. 18 miles in two hours. So much for looking fresh on arrival. I was suffering an attack of being a non youthful mature female of a certain age and enjoyed the fresh cool air once we arrived, but my friends assured me that it was cold to the point of frigid, and with that certain odor that only Newark has, and once again, the game of the week is played, "what is that smell?" It thankfully wasn't me.

The New Jersey PAC is a lovely structure in more decent surroundings than I imagined, many chain restaurants and hotel/motels in the area, and rail service, making it an alternative to NYC. Lovely inside, well staffed lobby, with an oddly placed ladies room that needed to be accessed down a short hall, past a maintanance closet, and through another set of doors, but clean, once you find it. The Concert was scheduled for 7:30 PM, but the doors did not open until a few minutes after 7, keeping all the well heeled patrons milling about, dining at the in venue restaurant, and drinking at the bar, and shopping the kiosks scattered around. When they finally let us in, we admire the insides. Stunning, round balconies soaring up into the levels of "Hell no I am not sitting there" height, and the floor slanting downwards towards the stage. The stage was low, at slightly above where my waist would be if I had a waist, and if I were a bit taller. I had a front row seat, yes I did, directly 4 feet dead on the bass players microphone. There were 4 seats to my right, then an aisle, then the side sections, a very small intimate pit section, very similar in feeling to the first four rows of the Albert Hall. The Band was placed a few feet back, so this was a real Nose hair view of the evening. But I didn't mind. My internal furnace was finally cooling down, and I felt better.

The Show was fun. It is live folks, a misplucked string is not going to ruin my night, and a Band not having fun, and focusing on perfection is not fun either, and who wants to be perfect anyway? Where do you go from there? I am in search of the perfect concert, but in all truthfulness, I hope I never find it, so I can keep searching forever. And no, I am not used to perfection, and no one can speak for me.

Gemini Dream

Long time no see? No mystery verse for you and me.

The Voice

practically like on the records, but a little tired sounding.

Slide Zone

Someone is getting on his toes and reaching those high notes, and I like it

You and Me

Different every night, some nights there is a longer solo at the end, and each night there are new raunchy crunchy guitar bits, I would say "F"ng Awesome" but someone beat me to it.And I'm using the lyrics as instructions.

Tuesday Afternoon

Great reception by the audience and the band is playing it in a fun happy way, which is great considering the thousands of times it has been performed.

Gypsy

well, don't sit near me during this song if you want quiet reflection

Nervous

Wow really quite the concert performance! Also with a bit of difference every night at the end with addlibbing of very on key singing by the bass player, I was honored to be there to hear this last night.

SIWL

So what if a few notes crack? The air was very dry, but the smiling, and nose crinking and eyebrow wiggling sentiment is still there.

Peak Hour

a premature entry on one line but that can be expected of men of a certain age. And again, this is not a criticism, just a fun observation.

IKYOTS

Like some of us have springs! Which pleases the singer, and yes, he has told me this, it isnt an observation, or summation of my deciphering what each eye twitch means.

TSIYE

Its not the opera folks, it isnt illegal to have a good time

YWD

ok, so I now forgive you, and the singer looked pleased, he was dancing from foot to foot the entire song.

ILS

Too much fog machine, we in the first row disappeared for a few minutes.

There was no other side of life tonight, perhaps we have finally investigated it thoroughly? alas, I think not. The big clue was the roadie bringing out the microphone for the next song, for the Drummer's bit in the spotlight.

H&H

Not as much extra twiddly guitar bits as the night before, but the bass player did some off mic "Do do do's" if one needed to know this.

AYSC

The song was beautiful, and no one noticed any misplucked string, or the shy smile after, absolutely no one. And if someone did, the shy smile was worth the misplucking, in my opinion.

IJAS

When someone on the stage motions you to get up, should you? I think so, and one might cite health and age issues, but I noticed that people with legitimate reasons to sit were moved by the music. Now, no one is under any obligation to sit, or dance, but don't ever again try to tell me that the Band doesn't like it.

NIWS

Wow wee kazow wee How, at the end of any given show, even one with a few cracks, which is normal for us mortals, can he pull this off with such passion, and yes, it is getting very powerful, better each night.

Question

No sing along since Westbury, but don't let that stop us. The stage was so low, that I was able to hear this accoustically, not amplified, and yes, that is their real voices.

RMSS

Odd mis drumming at the beginning, and it almost completely ruined my night. NOT.

So, in summation, It was a splendid night, despite traffic, public restrooms, hot flashes, and no hotel room. We eventually did get a room, by the way, some where along our route, too long a day.

There were four gentlemen sitting to the right of me, and a word of advice, do not get baked stuffed haddock before a show, unless you think the odor of butter and garlic is an aphrodesiac. I didnt need to ask what that smell was, it was obvious. But they were very nice, actually Jethro Tull fans, and he was impressed, and actually believed me about my concert attendance, and even more so by my night at Canterbury Cathedral last December. He was suitably impressed with the flautist, couldn't keep his eyes off her. And the lady behind me loved the show, she told me she came expecting to be disappointed, but was impressed by the ned, and told me they were Better than Bob Dylan. I told her I'd let them know.
　

　

It's a Gemini's Dream

Wednesday November 28, 2012

It's a Gemini's Dream

Welcome to the full Gemini Moon. Does this mean double our pleasure? Or that all Gemini's will have fun?

We wake up, to a chorus of ow's, ouches, and oh my goodnesses.Such is the glamorous life of famous rock babes of a famous rock band. The indulgences of the night before return the next day reminding you that despite evidence to the contrary, you are not as lithe and nimble as you think. And what is that smell? It wasn't any of us, but we have our suspicions.

Spending day and night in a confined space, no matter how luxurious, gets claustrophobic, and fresh air, errand running, napping, TV watching, all gets done together, and separately.The time in between the shows is the hardest to fill, as mapping out a route, estimating drive time, and departure time takes up a short part of the day, then we need to plan wash and dress time. We just don't appear magically at each venue you know, this takes work.

I did have one event to remark upon while I was running errands. I had need of the washroom, and found a public one to use. I carefully sounded out the letters to discern MEN from WOMEN, as these things can get confusing when one is overtired, and I wanted to be sure. So I open the door and walk inside. Well, to my surprise I saw a large human, I'm guessing, with buzz cut hair on a Juglike head, which was sitting on a thick short neck. Going down, there were broad shoulders in a suit jacket, square hips, trousers, mens police shoes. Said human was in front of a porcelain washroom item, zipping up fly. I suffered a full body blush, and promptly ran out, and sounded out all the letters again, to make sure, and yes, it clearly stated WOMEN. I counted all my body parts, and since I had passed my anatomy course, I was fairly sure I fit the description, but was unsure of what I had found in the washroom. I walked back in, as the feminoid turned to look at the stumbling mumbling one who had a need, and I don't know who was more embarrassed, but I pretended it was me, hoping to take the cowards way out, and not get hurt. It all worked out in the end. I hope I never see this poor soul again, as I will undoubtedly never again pass this way, as I didn't quite know where I was, but life has a habit of placing the same obstacles in front of you until they are overcome. I am not sure I could survive another encounter like this in the future.

And that brings us to the Capitol Theater in Port Chester NY, once again. We park the car, remembering that we are near the Peruvian chicken restaurant, and promptly pass three more walking to the theater entrance. Restaurants, not Peruvians, or chickens.

Finally, I am recognized for who I am, love me or not. How refreshing, and I make my grand entrance minutes before curtain time, and sit in a seat I found acceptable. It didnt match the numbers on my ticket, but I wasnt wearing my glasses, so I can not be held responsible for lost or stolen items. But it didn't matter too much, as I wasn't sitting all the time.

Gemini Dream

The mystery Verse was Back!

You and Me

Great guitar work at the end, improvised, with someone quite pleased with himself.

Nervous

No one noticed the extra "bring it" no, no one did,

The high notes hit by the bass player were stunning, clear, on key, and I was right there in front of the poor fellow, I should know, I heard the live voice, not the mix feed. A lady in the third row was coming down with the vapors during this song, no she wasn't one of us, and that song got her going, and from that point on she behaved like one of us the rest of the show.

Gypsy

Hello

IKYOTS

Whomever he was looking for was on the right side of the audience, as he rarely glanced to his right, our left the entire show, especially that song. Funny, we were on the right.

TSIYE

I did what I had to do. Freaky eyeball projections all over the walls and ceiling of the theater.

TOSOL

As far as I am concerned there is no other side.

We Drifted wood, not sitting comfortably, but who really cares? Gorgeous.

IJAS

There is a certain bass player still capable of doing things with his bass when the timing is right. Scorching! dadadada Whoooo

NIWS

Slightly scratchy, but I have been assured by a reliable source that he does not have a cold. There was passion, but not of the" I need a cigarette when its over" variety, not yet, optimistic.

And yes, ask a Gemini about a Dream, you might get an answer.
　

Tuesday November 27, 2012

Tuesday November 27, 2012

Good Morning Grey and gloomy sky. Sloony weather today. Wear tops and bottoms, it is wet, windy with fat rain and wet sloppy snow flakes. Driving the length and breadth of the area on the interstate was very exciting, I saw a BMW in a tree. That was on my way to collecting my favorite corrupted Canadian.

Airport security is unimpressed with how important I am, and collecting Canadians gets complicated, but using the combined superior intellect of our committee, we soon figure it out, and the appropriate measures are taken, the Canadian is collected, we find someplace warm and dry to pull ourselves together.

Once again, if you want a good concert, be a good audience. The venue is located on a secondary street, in a typical Northeast city. non straight roads, shops, chain stores and restaurants, manufacturing plants and residences all jumbles together, with a surprising amount of Peruvian establishments.

The audience is again the Woodstock refugees of yesterday, who have found soap, and prosperity, but retain the spirit of the sixties, palpable as the venue filled in. It was not a sell out, and knowing that there would be empty seats; we worried about the performance. The Globe Theater is an old music hall, renovated, with folding chairs, faily plush, but not bolted to the floor, in the front. The stage is about 4ish feet up, and the Band is up front, making it very intimate in the first several rows. Any worries about a less than full house limiting audience response was soon forgotten, as we had all types there. The interpretive lyrical dancers, the wigglers, the jumping wavers, the head bopping sitters, and singalongers. I enjoyed muchly the lyrical interpretive dancers, waving their hands and hips as much as 60 plus hips and shoulders can do sinuous moves, and did miss for a few minutes Mr. Thomas' Fabulous second act song, as I used to dance along with the fat happy hippies of old, with their herbal smoky air about them, flying their astral planes. But back to the present. I drift, having a flashback. So, where was I?

The audience. Many familiar faces, of the friendly types as well. And yes I saw you, and also, sorry I missed you. And also sadly, a couple of people who do not get the message of the music, and security was needed. Sadly, they are so locked up into themselves, they probably never noticed that they were under scrutiny. Putting a slight damper on an otherwise nearly perfect show. The Band is getting better, and the voices are warmed up, all the muscles doing what muscles do.

Gemini Dream

Standard, no mystery verses tonight, well done

You and Me

Some one played so well, he amazed himself, wandered off to his right, and played a bit extra on the ending solo, well done, I know a Canadian sitting in that spot that might never be the same again, after that.

IKYOTS

Yup, like we all had springs under our bottoms, releasing at the key change. And those of us with the old days Moody Manners stayed up for TSIYE

And were up again for YWD. Yay, an audience wilder than me, at least in the first several rows, I wasnt concerned with what was behind me.

As has become the new standard, AYSC was in tonight, DW was out, and as I love both, whatever they want to play for me is ok.

H&H

You dont always know what the old fellow will say, changing day to day, nothing too shocking.

IJAS,

Wow, the best so far this tour, if I have any opinion. Like they were playing right to me.

NIWS

Getting better , passion is leaking into it, we might just get the best of the Tour soon.

RMSS

A male/ female couple took the lyrics as instructions, and did a grinding dance during the guitar solo, almost in front of him, and he grinned watching this, so did I. They were unable to be completely center, as the security issue was still ongoing, with crew positioned strategically, to prevent an altercation of the unpleasant type. Which gratefully, did not occur.

Our return to home base. We stopped being young and ageless and the taking of recreational meds. Sleep came anyway.

Monday November 26, 2012

Another Mundane Monday

What do you do with a day off. You make plans. Sometimes months in advance, sometimes you have no plans at all. People always stop to talk to you when you are not in a socializing mood? ever notice that? Everyone wanting to know what I was up to, and asking me about my future plans, inviting me to exotic locations.

We had a suggestion of an itinerary, which was rejected. Then we ran errands, I was on a mission to look at every pair of boots in a 10 mile radius, and we also needed to find unscented non greasy hand lotion. Surprisingly easier to find the lotion than the boots. I needed boots without too many studs, and with non ugly toes and safe heels, and on sale. I found them by avoiding the obvious, and going for the safe route, and then having the right item drop into my lap. After which, we needed sustenance, and libation, as our errands wore us out. We picked the safest place we could find, as the neighborhood was dodgy at best. Surprisingly, for being home, I was the one with the funny accent. But not as bad as other patrons, who apparently had such difficulty with their order as to need it returned and the correct items delivered. I just had an ongoing and continuous offering of items I never ordered brought to my table, and as there were only 4 occupied tables scattered around the place, why this was happening, I can't explain, were we all talking a different language? We certainly weren't speaking to each other. It may have been the sinus clearing meal, or the three margaritas, but I swear, I felt better afterwards. So good in fact, that I listened to Music, and had sweet dreams. The kind that come true.

The next day, however, is another story.

Sunday November 25, 2012

Return to the turning of Westbury

Once more I find myself drawn to an otherwise non descript piece of property in Long Island. Why? I ask over and over again. My life is spinning out of control, things whizz past me, and I'm hearing voices, or I'm at the fourth Concert at this venue in 7 months. Anyway, here I am. We arm ourselves with the resolve needed to face the parking lot musclemen, and refuse to accept anything less than our customary space, being who we are, after all.

The same happy hippies in BMW's Mercedes and Cadillacs arrive, flashing cash, buffed nails, perfectly coiffed hair, and tailored coats. The wives also were well groomed. After my lesson learned the night before, not remembering when cleavage might be necessary, I am prepared. I can put my feet up on the stage from where I am sitting, but I won't tell you what row it is, and anyway, that would be rude to the performers, and unladylike, not to mention any unmentionables.

The person to my left asks me if I want to know the set list?

No.

Really, I have it from last night, I was here

So were several hundred others, including me, No.

I have all the songs except the ones I dont know.

I know all of them, and I did say no, didn't I?

Well she was through with me after that. I do have a way with total strangers, but I see it as their fault, no recognizing me, after all. I hope I have the look of happiness surrounding me, and a twinkle in my eye, not the unfocused glazed glare of the delusional and psychotic. Must check my eyes out in a mirror, and practice sanity. When I return back to the real world.

We are each in our own universe, pressed to gether like pages in a book, glimpsing at the worlds to our immediate sides, but not going past a certain limit. While out on the road, we are trying to get to a concert, others are trying to get home, to work, to friends and family. We pass them, some we pass may even be trying to get to the same concert as us. The spaces between our universes expand, as if the book pages were ruffled, looking for a bookmark, and then settle back in again, close, yet so far away.

The lights go down, and we are all transformed by either the well placed stage lights, or the safe darkness of the theater, and go back through time and space. The music brings us there, washing over us, pulsating and driving us to the remembered times of the past, while simultaneously enjoying the present.

How many of us did naughty things to these songs? My hand is raised, but I'm not telling what songs I did what naughty things to, or with whom, or when, that would be naughty.

The people on stage sported fabulous foot wear, and hair. How do they find the time to shop, with all the traveling and rehearsing? Talent.

Stand out songs of the night

Gemini Dream, did not have the mystery verse included. It was practically perfect, yet I long for the mystery verse.

Gypsy. Pointedly Perfect. No adjusting necessary.

You and Me again, great audience recognition

Nervous I love that song, and so do many others

IKYOTS I had fun singing a verse along with a certain blondish person, of a not too tall description

YWD again, see above.

With the revolving stage, one never knows when one will be facing someone. I siezed the moments. Because there was security preventing people from siezing anything else.

ILS great miscellaneous percussion

H&H Dancing prancing bass player with something in his eye, he kept winking and a great three measure sustain from the guitar player as the bearded one finished up his dance.

Question, again, the audience was singing along the ENTIRE song so loudly and beautifully, we were given our verse to sing back to the author

RMSS So great, one forgets to be sad that the show is over.

Dodgem cars in the lot, and a blasting drive back over the bridge, to a reality we left just a few hours ago.

　

　

Saturday November 24, 2012

Let's Drive to Long Island

Waking up in the morning. the collective chorus of "ow", "ouch" "oh my" is heard. Not even a long hot shower with luxury soaps can wash away this fatique, so I use the provided products, and hope for the best. I dress for a long car ride, and hope for more road side meals. We take the scenic route, and see New Jersey. We don't see any storm damage other than the ocassional downed tree, the same as at home, but I am not on a disaster tour of the Northeast. I am in search of a stellar concert experience.

We arrive at the proper venue hours early, despite traffic. And a trip thru the theater district of NYC. Now what? so we go for a walk. Back sitting in the car, I observe the patrons of this fine facility. Everyone drives too fast down the access road to the parking lot, and the attendants, there to assist in the proper parking of all the cars, accept folded bills of currency from some of the shiniest and most expensive cars, and these cars are placed in strategic spots, allowing for easy egress. alas, a thousand cars all trying to get out at the same time, with several jaguars and mercedes blocking the way makes it difficult for the rest of us, and the attendants were not in sight. A luxury car free for all. some one alsways win, though, and we did escape in time.

Back to sitting around observing the people. Gone were the sour faces seen in Easton, in their places were the faces of happy hippies, the survivors of Woodstock, all bathed and prosperous. And some with the tell tale limp of needing new hips and knees. Nothing wrong with that. The audience was predominately male, with many men in pairs arriving, not those kind, no, just friends. Not that there is anything wrong with that either.

Once again I sit next to someone who asks if I am a first timer? Does no one know who I am anymore?

There stood over past me a bit, a gentleman wearing a tshirt advertising an upcoming ocean voyage event. He stood, back towards one half of the audience, then turned, and did this for a few minutes, then sat down. A few rows over and down, another man in a similar shirt, coincidently advertising the same event, then stood up, posed, turned, posed again. Then they both stood up, gave each other full frontal. It was like watching two peacocks circling each other. They finally gave up and waved. Whats with this ocean voyage event that makes one puff up and pose? The man next to me informed me that is was a special VIP cruise for special people. I suppose one needs to be in the know to find these things out. I'll wait for an invitation from and Important Person, myself. If I am as VIP as I think I am, I should beinvited.

The concert was fabulous, a few more of the kinks ironed out, and muscles exercised.

If you want a good concert, my advice is to be a good audience. The concert is in the round, with a revolving stage, and as such, one gets to see thing not usually seen with a standard stage show. Like a view of  2/3 of the audience at any given time.

I truly enjoyed watching all the people singing along to "You and Me" and "Nervous" And yes, I do take my eyes off the stage to see the audience, if it wasn't for all the people buying the tickets in all the cities and towns, None of us would be there.

The sing along to "Question" was fabulous. Almost drowned out the singer, he did let the audience sing a lyric, which doesnt always happen, really looked pleased with the results. There is no "off the stage come back for an encore" thingy here, would take too much effort going up that dark ramp, so, there is some millimg about, and the count town begins. The arm waving during the last song is fun when half the audience is in front and the other half behind, and all waving in different directions.

Then the massive pile up to get out, all those bad hips and knees, all danced and sung out, trying to go up a steep ramp, and out the two exits, and into the parking lot, with some darn fool coming down the up ramp, and people trying to leave, all the peace and love from the show wearing off quickly. I have gotten used to people proclaiming that they are saying it with love only to use that as a veiled threat. So, a Cadillac Escalade not letting me cross the street? minor in my day. And as I stated, we won. we got out safely, and got home with all the correct pieces in place.

Did I mention the front row? I won't.
I also won't mention who wiped their nose, then peaked at their sleeve to see the results.

And we get to spin round and round again tomorrow!

Easton, PA November 23, 2012

Friday November 23, 2012

Easton PA

We drive along highways and byways, farms, and hills and valleys. People leading ordinary lives, crowding the malls and Walmarts in search of the elusive 50 inch flat screen 200.00 television.

I am in search of the elusive perfect concert.

The lovely Easton is thronging with people, the Santa parade and Candle lighting ceremony is tonight, and the search is on for the perfect parking spot. I summon one up using my magic powers. Actually we drive around all the detours and get lucky. Decided against seeing Santa, but I was tempted when I saw the balloon scultures, one had a decidedly naughty shape.

We go to the theater. I never liked this place, yet I continue to return, why one asks? Why do you think? I answer. It is run by volunteers, all older, and slow moving, with bad attitudes, as if they were doing you a favor by ripping your stub. The lady insists on telling me where my seat is. I insist I do not need to be told, as I end up in this row all the time. I dodge the pack of stern faced ushers at the top of the aisle, go down and hop around another set of ushers and patrons staring at the ticket and the seat numbers, and come up to my seat.

I was sitting in either the third row center, or fourth row side, outside a 2 row pit, depends on who's delusion or reality you subscribe to. And Ive sat here many times. I have the old stubs to prove it.

I sit next to someone, who starts the conversation "You a Moody Blues Virgin?"

Horrors!

I politely inform them that No, I've been to many, many shows.

How Many, they ask, informing me that they rarely miss a show in the area.

Well, neither do I, and I don't live in this area.

Really, how many?

Hundreds.

Shock, the jaw opens.

No, Really.

Yes.

How do you do that?

I go every night, every tour, every year, every where.

The converstion abruptly ends. Someone else shows up, a real fan as indicated by their wardrobe of purchased merchandise, because only the elite fans know how to get to the table in the lobby to buy tshirts, SHHH dont tell anyone. Well, it was confirmed that I am obviously an imposter, as they dont recognize me either. So, not being the me that goes to these shows, I continue the evening.

By being harrassed by the usher. It had come to the ushers attention that I was not in my seat, that I was seat jumping to this fabulous 6th row near the wall seat. I was asked for my stub, informed that I had to move, until I pointed out that I was in fact in the correct seat. We also had to inform this dimwitted cluck that my travel partner was not sitting with her husband. I have been accused of various behaviors, and predilections, but rarely have I been accused of being a "not husband". I would like to know why I was singled out, because no one else was subject to the same rigorous seat identification methods I was.

And the concert begins

Gemini Dream, sung to the usual standards with a mis sung verse. Dont ask which verse, as they rattle us up in the audience by randomly singing two different ones at the same time, in a different pattern each time. Quite exciting.

The Day we Meet again wasnt tonight, and may not be for a while.

Say it With Love had a nice yodel to it. Unexpected extra high warbling.

Not half as many people as you may have been lead to believe were known to be out there somewhere, and the story as always, was in my eyes.

In my wildest dreams there was a hint of country yodels again, and

The other side of life was sung in several other keys before the correct one was hit. There were several blue glowsticks doing a new pattern, not the usual customary and accepted correct one, nor the lack of rhythm one that is seen often, as not all of us can coordinate the sway of a bass player in tight trousers with our extended arms. Im not sure if this was to attract circling air planes or the debut of something new. So, begs the question, how does one rehearse for this? Im filing this to ponder at a later date.

Nights in white satin had a new verse, Just what you want to be, you will soon understand. I certainly hope so, I might have to ask for clarification of that from the author.

By the time the Question was asked, the same 4 ladies were standing over the side, as had been standing all concert, except when the Nasty Usher was doing his shift.

The audience was not the good looking old hippies having a great time as is usual at this place, it looked a bit like a convention of constipated bankers. Basically, like no one there was giving a poop about the show.

The Band was in good voice, good energy, each song started off with a Pow!, but some had a fizzle and not a sizzle at the end. Fatique? lack of audience participation? The line of camera lenses instead of faces? Who can say. Time will tell, and maybe I will too.

Countdowns

Thursday November 22, 2012

Countdowns. People like to count down to an event, planning, getting excited. Why? I've done it, and I don't remember why, what motivated me other than needing something to do. It becomes ritualistic, and a creative outlet, but what purpose does it serve?

It makes some people happy. It hurts no one. It aids in planning for the event.

I like the anticipation, the thrill, the electric current that courses through my body at the thought of the event. The numbers mean a steady progression of time, orderly lined up in front of me, plenty of it, room to let things by, time to get things done, items prepared, plans made.

Then the countdown reads Zero. No time left, time has run out, and now the real work begins. I envy those that prepare, have notes and lists, I also despise them, for not having the brain power to think on the fly. I secretly congratulate myself as each item, each chore is knocked off my imaginary list, the one in my head, only to be replaced by the stomach sinking feeling as each item off the list leaves room for 10 more items.

Do I ask anyone to help? That would let them know I am failing; that there is a chink in my armour. That would be unpleasant.

But isn't it pleasant when one can share? laughing at ourselves together, without fear of recrimination, of snide remarks, of having your foibles and flaws brought up at an awkward time desinged to make you look ridiculous. Designed to make the accuser look better?

Yes, it is pleasant to share like behaviors, flaws and fears with friends. The knowledge that your secrets are safe, your hidden fears remain hidden, and the shared laughter when you cross that invisible line into the land of strange obsessions, and know you will be brought back safely, after a good giggle. Knowing that your companions are not sinking into that strange land, drawing you in, then leaving you there to drown, alone.

And knowing that although you publically despise countdowns, you have someone with whom you can share the numbers.
　

November 19, 2012

Seriously, who would have thought thirty years ago, that one concert could change so may lives in so many ways?

I can pinpoint in time and space when the universe took a turn, and I began a journey that hasn't ended yet, and I think of all the lives that one decision has touched; the people with whom I have traveled, laughed and cried with, and those that i have yet to meet. The people I have left behind, and those that have gone on, leaving me behind. The tens of thousands of people, who at first were sitting in the concert halls in front of me, now seated behind me. The fabulous and frivolous, the sad and bad places I have been to, and that none of this would be, if I hadn't left the house one night in July 1984. Oh, I have enough humility to realize that the concerts would have happened, many, if not most of the people would have found their ways there, but not in the combinations and configurations that occurred.

There are those that may publically and privately wish I had never shown up, but I doubt anyone on the stage feels that way. In fact, Ive been told differently. There are times I wonder if the concert would have been as fabulous if I hadn't been there hopping up and down, and there are times I wonder how a concert can be good without me.

There are those who brag about the amount of concerts that they have gone to, and are lying. I haven't been to the most of any fan, not close, but given the known, I doubt anyone can pass me in attendance at this time. I want to hope that there are that may shows ahead of us, but at the current rate of performances per year, doubtful, given all our ages. But never say never, in a perfect world, someone going to more than 300 concerts starting today would be fabulous, because I would be there too.

So why do I go? I have no idea. If I did, perhaps I'd get my fill and go home. Its been close a few times, but something always happens to relight that spark. I get all jumbly tumbly tummy before each show, as if I were the performer. Each song being played is my favorite, or at least has a twiddly bit that I find satisfying, and the sadness I feel as it ends is quickly replaced by the elation felt as the next song begins. Yes, I have heard a few songs too many times, and I will never publically admit to which ones, and for the most part, they arent performed anymore. And no, it never gets old, not entirely. yes, they sing the same songs every night, with the occasional shakeup, and no it isnt the same night after night. Im in a different venue, a different seat, Ive traveled, eaten, slept, changed clothes, and lived more in that past 24 hours than most people might live in a lifetime. At the start of a  Tour, I have an idea of where I'll be going. At the end of the Tour, looking back, it is never as planned, and beyond expectations. I've often found myself at the last show of the Tour, weeks after the beginning, made with last minute plans, no ticket, no reservations, no money, having a great time.

I have found my happy place. Many people search for this, few find it. Some bury their searches in a bottle, or bags of powder and pills. Some hide at home, blaming poor health, poor finances, bad marriages for all their misery. Some even hide behind the anonymity of the Internet and hurl insults, and dissect and try to decipher motives, using their fantasies and suspect reasons for why they would do this, and why I really go, and disagree with me when I tell the truth. I keep going because it makes me happy. Plain and Simple. Can one describe that all over tingle, that butterfly belly, the dry mouth? That "night before Christmas" feeling only a young child feels? The night before your wedding feeling? Ive never had that, but I suspect it is similar. Dont you want to feel that again? I do, and this does it for me. Like enjoying chocolate, or wine, can you describe it adequately for anyone to understand? Do you let negative remarks keep you away? I doubt it. So, let me enjoy this, this fleeting feeling, and let me be.

To be at a concert. To hear that special combination of notes that will never be played this way again, to have the sound waves wash over me, pass through me, go beyond me, getting smaller and smaller then dissappearing into infinity. I am part of this, the now. I see the people on the stage, people who once were the bright young things in a studio, long ago and far away, writing, recording these songs, The disembodied voices I used to command to play, exactly the same every time, by spinning a vinyl disc and placing a diamond in the grooves. Then by having a laser read an invisible code, how cool was that? Now I get to hear them do these same old songs in a new way, the way they want to present it today, and sometimes not quite coming off as planned. The best concerts are the perfect ones, and the ones with the most mistakes. And the ones in between. To hear someone sing a song for their 3000th time, and my hearing it live for the 300th time, and to have it end with a feeling that I witnessed something special is phenomenal, and that is maybe why I keep going, to not miss that one great moment that rises above all the others.

And why I dont want to go. There comes a time, each Tour, that moment of complete clarity, when I realize what I am doing.

I am spending money that could be put to better personal use. I am traveling to mundane, boring places with no plan to do anything there other than get to the venue, and leave 3 hours later. I go to the most glamorous places in the world, and miss all the tourist spots. I am wearing innapropriate clothing, spending a lot of time in cars, busses, trains, planes, and hotel rooms. I am listening to 20, 30, 40 year old songs, written by idealistic young men, sung by grand dads. I am no longer the young nubile attractive suductive female that one associates with a rock band.

And yet, once the lights dim, we all transform back to what whe want to be, rock stars, young girls, young men, All happy to be there, and it comes back to why I am there. And why they are here, it makes us Happy. And we all look around, to the familiar faces, the ones we are glad to see, and the ones we are not always glad to see, and we think, "where would I be if I wasnt here?", and the thought moves away faster than a cymbal crash, and off we go, Happy. Singing off tune, hitting sour notes, dancing with arthritic joints? Not during the show, no one notices, at least not enough to spoil it.