It's official...The Foos will be in Philly on Thursday, February 21, 2008!

Labels: concerts, Foo Fighters, good news, local news, music, Philadelphia

I will be watching these guys extremely up-close and personal!!!!



Can't wait, can't wait!

I so totally need this. My coworker was fired on Friday afternoon, somewhat unexpectedly, and now my workload has doubled. I've already been putting in some seriously long hours anyway. Now I might as well keep my pj's and slippers there.

Ugh.

Labels: concerts, Foo Fighters, music

Well, I just broke a personal record: most amount of money spent on concert tickets.

Last time we went to see the Foo Fighters, I told my husband that I would spend any amount of money to get REALLY good seats for their next show. That was over two years ago.

I reminded him of this fact again just this past July, as I drooled while watching their LiveEarth performance on TV.

They just announced a few tour dates this weekend, and they're coming to the Borgata in Atlantic City on October 6. The show's already sold out, of course. So I did a little comparison shopping online between StubHub, Ticket Liquidator, and eBay.

Now, I don't know what most married couples do, but my husband and I have an agreement: if either of us wants to make a big (over $200) purchase, we run it past the other one first.

So what do you think I did tonight?

I did what any self-respecting wife would do when lobbying for a big-bucks item: I waited until after he'd fallen asleep, then woke him up and asked him if it was OK with him that I buy the tickets.

"Whuh? Huh?" he sputtered after I gently shook him in his sleep.

"The Foo Fighters are coming to the Borgata in a few weeks," I whispered. "I want to get tickets for us. Are you busy on October 6?"

"Mmmmm....zzzzz.....uh, no," he mumbled. "Don't think so..."

"OK, good."

"Wait...how much?"

I paused. Damn. I was hoping he'd be so out of it as to forget to ask about that part.

"About $300."

"Mmmm....okay," he muttered as he rolled over, pulling the blankets back up over his head.

Score!!!

I wound up going with the eBay deal, and I just bought two tickets that cost me $277 including priority USPS shipping.

Yes, I am crazy.

But hey, unlike most women, I don't buy expensive shoes or purses or even clothes...so I have to splurge on something. Right?

I've never been to the Borgata for a show, but it seems that their arena is a little different than most; there is a large general admission area in the front, not the rear, of the reserved seating area, and it's standing-room only...which means that we will have to get there very, very early that day to get a good spot by the stage.

Still, I'm amped. Now that I've got a quality digital camera, I hope to get some really great shots of my second husband, Dave Grohl. When they came to the Tower in 2005, I was using my parents' digital camera and it totally tweaked on me as I stood in the pit, quivering like a leaf in a hurricane, just underneath Dave Grohl during the acoustic "Everlong" encore. Not a single picture came out properly. Dammit.

Not this time!

(I hope).

Labels: concerts, Foo Fighters, marriage, music

I took well over 100 photos at the concert.

Labels: concerts, John Mayer, music

I know, I know...I haven't been around here in a while. Sorry. I've been crazy busy with work and studying for yet ANOTHER professional certification (NASD Series 65 investment license) and also...just living life.

Here's what I did last night:







And no, Jessica WASN'T there...

Labels: concerts, John Mayer, music

If you are a Foo fan, you must buy this. It was just released last week, and it's a live performance CD from this past year's "Afoostic" tour.



It is amazing. I have been sitting here, eyes closed, listening to it, and I am covered with goosebumps. This was by far the best concert of 2006, and as most of you know, I went to many concerts this year.

The only thing that disappoints me a bit is that it excludes most of the banter between Dave and the guys that Foo fans love so much.

A live performance DVD will follow next month.

Labels: concerts, Foo Fighters, music

Lush. Warm. Intimate. Mellow.



These are the words I'd use to describe the Foo Fighters acoustic (or "afoostic" as they've been referring to it) concert on Wednesday night. I was really blown away by how lovely the show was.

Frank Black (The Pixies) opened--I have to say I was counting the minutes until he got off the stage.

Then Dave Grohl strode onto the stage, picked up his guitar, leaned into the mic and said, "Hey everyone, how's it going?" and began playing "Razor" (my new favorite song) all by himself. It was INCREDIBLE and haunting. His voice sounded better than ever. Near the end of the song, Chris, Nate and Taylor joined him onstage, along with guitarist Pat Smear (former Foo/Nirvana guitarist), keyboardist Rami Jaffee (The Wallflowers), violinist Petra Haden (The Sellouts), and a second percussionist, whose name now escapes me. Sorry, castanet-dude.

The setlist included a few songs from their latest double album (Over and Out, Miracle, and Cold Day in the Sun, which featured Taylor singing lead), a rare B-side song Dave had written years ago (Skin and Bones) and some classic Foo (Big Me, Walking After You, My Hero, Times Like These, Floaty, February Stars, Next Year).

This is the second concert I've attended in which the audience remained seated throughout, up until the encore. As always, Dave entertained the audience with his sparkling wit, poking fun at Yuengling lager and the now-cancelled TV dramedy Ed, as well as accepting a gift for his 4-month old daughter from a fan.

Dave reappeared for a three-song encore (Friend of a Friend, Best of You, and Everlong) at which point I had managed to sneak down to the pit in front of the stage. By then, I think the ushers had pretty much given up on trying to enforce seating. So I got to stand directly in front of Dave--near enough that I could see all the details of the tattoos on his arms! I was seriously shaking like a leaf in a windstorm because I was so damn close to him. As he played Everlong, the entire theatre could have come crashing down around me and I don't think I would have noticed.

Fantastic show. If they ever come around again, I'm just going to bite the bullet and cough up major cash for a really good seat.

Tomorrow is the Steely Dan concert with my mom...

Labels: concerts, Foo Fighters, music

I am so freaking psyched about the Foo Fighters concert tonight.

First of all, we're having dinner before the show at Pica's in Upper Darby (my hometown!). I worked at Pica's as a waitress for three years while I was in college, and I have extremely fond memories of the place. One of these days I'm going to write about my experiences there. I've been begging The Huz to take me there for months now, because I miss their famous square pizza! Mmmm-mmmm. Can't wait!

On to the concert: this is their first-ever acoustic tour, so it promises to be different and interesting. The reviews so far are excellent--supposedly it's intimate and subdued (in a GOOD way). They're performing at the Tower Theatre, also in Upper Darby, which is a wonderful little venue. It was built in the gothic style in the late 1920s. Originally used as a theatre for vaudeville acts, the Tower later became a movie theatre before being converted to a world-class concert venue. It seats only 3,100 people. I've never been to Radio City Music Hall, but I imagine that the Tower is a miniature replica of it. Its history and atmosphere are so rich.



I can't wait to hear the acoustic version of "Everlong"--which is easily my favorite Foo Fighters song, and possibly my favorite love song of all time. The reviews I've read stated that the Foos play "Everlong" as one of a two-song encore, and that it literally stops the show. I have goosebumps now just thinking about it.

This just may qualify as my idea of the perfect night.

Labels: concerts, Foo Fighters, food, FYI, memories, music, Upper Darby

You know, I was looking through some old posts here and realized that somehow a few of them were gone. Poof. Vanished.

So here's one of them, with a new addendum at the end. Enjoy.

The combination of nostalgia, intense curiosity, and sheer boredom can do a real number on you. I have recently started Googling or searching MySpace for old friends, acquaintances and even ex-boyfriends.

The results of my searches have frequently surprised me: a handful of old high school buddies are now doctors; some are still single, some have kids, some are divorced, and some happily married. A few of my old friends are scattered across the country, but most have remained in the Philadelphia area.

I can’t ever think of the people who have come and gone from my life without thinking of Brian L. We had attended the same high school, but he was a year behind me, and I didn’t really know him until after we’d both graduated. Although we only spent a few short months together during the summer between my freshman and sophomore year in college, I know I will never forget him. He made that big of an impression on me.

I was totally and shamelessly crazy about Brian. He was probably the closest thing to a soul mate that I’ve ever had. We understood each other perfectly. He was sensitive, quiet and somewhat shy but wickedly funny, smart as a whip, and incredibly, incredibly hot. Just the thought of him made me drool all over myself.

We spent most of the summer of 1997 together, getting stoned, going to the movies, to the diner, playing video games, and talking about everything under the sun. On the rare nights I was not hanging out with him, I couldn’t even sleep, so consumed by my thoughts of him was I. I spent those nights listening to my Walkman, wandering up and down the driveway of my parents’ house, chain-smoking and brooding. I just ACHED for him, the way that only lovesick 19 year-old girls can.

Early that summer, I had bought a small, green-bordered book entitled "Getting to Know You." It was a book of questions, such as "Name the three things in life that frighten you the most," or, "If you had only 24 hours left to live, what would you do?" Basically, these were the kind of questions that provided outstanding conversational fodder for the semi-intellectual stoners we were. I don’t know what prompted me show it to him, but as soon as I did, he was immediately fascinated by it, and expected me to share it with him.

And so we spent entire nights, often from midnight till sunrise, poring through this book together while lounging on sticky vinyl lawn chairs in his dimly-lit backyard. We took turns asking each other questions from the book and discussing our answers at length, absolutely hanging on each other’s answers, and only occasionally breaking for a cigarette or passionate, urgent kissing.

As the pitch-black sky slowly turned steely grey and pink, he’d walk me to my car, where we’d cling to each other like the last two people on earth, until I tore myself away from him and went home. I realized that I really loved him when one late night, around 3:30, I asked him (from the book), "Who is your best friend?" He looked at me and said softly, without a pause, "You are." SWOOOOOON!!!!! Yes, I loved him. I really did.

There were some problems, of course. The first big issue was that, although he and I did everything together, he refused to call me his "girlfriend." He said he did not want to put a label on our relationship. At the time, this bothered me immensely, though looking back as an adult, I don’t understand why. I guess I was overly concerned with labels back then.

Secondly, we had some, ahem, physiological difficulties, if you will. We spent hours kissing, touching, exploring—but when it came time for the act...poof! The moment was gone. I guess that, technically, we only ever consummated our relationship TWICE. That was it. But still, I loved him and it didn’t matter to me. Until I met David, who would be my last serious relationship before I met my husband.

David was just about the polar opposite of Brian. He rubbed hot and cold with me. Sometimes he’d show up with dozens of roses for me for no apparent reason; other times, he was grumpy and distant, tantalizingly uninterested in me. A real challenge. Oddly enough, in my youth, there was nothing I liked more than a challenge. The thing that drew me to him the most, though, was that David had no problem with the boyfriend/girlfriend labels. How I wished Brian had felt the same!

For a while, I somehow managed to date both Brian and David simultaneously, even going to see Rage Against the Machine and Wu-Tang Clan with both of them. Looking back, I’m sure they both knew what was up, but I was just enjoying myself at the time.

Then, a few weeks after the concert, David asked me to be his girlfriend. As in, exclusively. As in, there would be no other people for either of us. Honestly, I can’t remember much about those days (all that pot-smoking destroyed large portions of my memory, sadly), and I can’t recall how difficult it was for me to decide what to do about Brian.

If I knew then what I know now, I can say with unqualified certainty that I would have--and should have--stuck with Brian L. I do remember, however, that shortly after David asked me to date only him, Brian and I were hanging out, as usual--making out in my car, in fact--when I dropped the bomb on him. The conversation is hazy, but I can remember this much:

Me: “This probably isn’t the best time to bring this up…”

Him: “Hmmm?”

Me: “Well...David asked me to be his girlfriend...and to go out with only him...and I said yes.”

Him: “WHAT? WHY? How could you do this, without talking to me first?”

If my (admittedly spotty) memory serves me correctly, Brian was crushed and furious with me. I felt awful, but in my mind, David was giving me what I wanted. I wish that I could recall more from that incident, but that’s it. And I never saw him again after that night. It was August 1997.

Fast-forward to the present: I know exactly where Brian L. is today and what he’s doing with his life, thanks to mutual acquaintances and my penchant for internet detective work. He’s in the Air Force, active duty, and living in Texas. This cracks me up because I can’t imagine him in the military at all, based on the person I knew way back in the day. Of course, we all grow and change, so what the hell do I know? Also, he’s got a daughter who is preschool age, and I think he was recently remarried.

For a while, I toyed with the idea of emailing him, just to say hello and see how he’s doing. Then I decided to go for it. I doubt anything will come of it. He may not even respond to my email because he either doesn't remember me or thinks I'm some kind of nutty stalker. So I don’t expect to get a response from him at all.

Have any of you ever contacted someone (a friend or an ex) from your past? I want to know what happened! How did it turn out? Were you surprised? Disappointed? Happy?

Labels: childhood, concerts, memories, nostalgia, technology

You know, I completely forgot (until reminded by Teri) that I never recapped the Michael Buble (henceforth known as MB for ease of writing) concert I attended a few weeks ago in Hershey, PA.

Some of you readers from way back might remember that my mom and I were originally supposed to see MB at Turning Stone Casino in Syracuse, NY in April. Then, the night before we were going to leave, my grandpa (mom's dad) died. So as you can imagine, it put quite a damper on things, and we never did go to the concert.

A few weeks after that, I was chatting about MB with my boss Tim. He asked me how the concert was, and I reminded him that I didn't go because of my grandfather's death. Then I mentioned that there were several dates added to MB's tour, and that he would be coming to Hershey in July.

"Hershey?" my boss echoed. "My cousin does all their PR stuff. When's he gonna be there?"

I told him that MB would be there the Sunday evening before July 4, but that tickets had not yet gone on sale. After about fifteen minutes and a couple phone calls, my boss's cousin had procured two outstanding tickets for my mom and me. Nineteenth row, center stage. Miraculous!

After I informed my mom that we would again be attempting to see MB in concert, I made a reservation at a cute little motor inn not far from Hersheypark. The plan was that we'd go up early on the concert day, do some sight-seeing and shopping, go to the show, and return home the following day.

On the day of the concert, we headed to Hershey. It only took an hour and a half to get there from Limerick, and my mom drove, which was an unexpected bonus. Unfortunately, we got to the motel thirty minutes before check-in, and they wouldn't let us into our room. No biggie -- we got lunch at a nice little restaurant down the road called Duke's.

After lunch, we checked into our motel and got settled. It was only 3 p.m., so I suggested we visit Chocolate World, which is right across the parking lot from Hersheypark.

We pulled into the enormous lot and found a relatively close spot to Chocolate World's entrance. I jumped out of the car and waited for my mom to get out of the driver's seat. She closed the door and started walking away, just as I noticed a strange noise emanating from underneath the car's hood. I called her over and asked, "Is that the noise your air conditioner makes after you turn off the car?"

She paused and stared at the car, her expression turning quickly from puzzlement to dismay to pure horror.

"I locked my keys in the car!" she wailed. "And the car's still running!"

Well, all I could do for the first few minutes after this declaration was laugh. Not very helpful, I know. Then I somehow managed to calm her down, despite her occasional moans that we were clearly not destined to ever see MB in concert.

Luckily, she had the presence of mind to remember that she had Subaru's roadside assistance. She called the 800 number and within twenty minutes, Subaru had dispatched a local locksmith to help us. It took the guy literally three minutes to break into the car, roll down the passenger window, and reach in to shut the car off. All this with zero damage to her car. Amazing.

After she signed the work order and gave him a very generous tip for his services, we headed into Chocolate World. I really don't have much to say about that trip, since (gasp!) I'm not really a chocolate lover. I bought a lot of junk for my coworkers and for my husband, though.

We returned to our motel, took showers, and got generally gussied up for the show. We stopped at the motel office to ask about restaurants near the concert venue. The woman there told us there was a Red Robin right around the corner from the Giant Center. Long story short, the line of waiting customers at the Red Robin was out the door and around the building. We looked at each other as we drove past and said, "Uh...no."

Instead, we had a lovely dinner at a local biker bar. Yes, you read that right. A biker bar. I have plenty of photos to commemorate that meal, trust me.

After we ate, we hightailed it over to the Giant Center. Now, on to the important stuff:

- Our seats were indeed awesome.
- The female to male ratio of attendees was about 8 to 1. But there were many more younger women there than I thought there'd be. A lot of teenagers, actually.
- MB's opener was a fellow Canuck named Jan Arden. I had no idea who she was until she sung the one and only hit she's ever had, a little ditty called "Insensitive." I remember this song because they played it every single night on a now-defunct radio program called "Between the Sheets" on 104.5 FM about ten years ago. She was damn funny, though. If the music thing doesn't work out for her, she could definitely be a stand-up comedienne.
- MB is as cute as puppies! And funny too!
- There was a lot of audience interaction, which I think makes a good concert great. At one point, he jumped off the stage and went running back to the furthest rows of spectators, shaking their hands, giving hugs and kisses to people, and posing for pictures with them as his band played. That was definitely one of the best aspects of his show.
- He also has quite the potty mouth. I think my mom was a little disappointed by that. I was just surprised -- he sang all these retro standards but then he swore like a sailor while interacting with the audience between songs. It was unexpected.
- He allows, and even encourages, people to take pictures of him onstage. I spent a good twenty minutes at the base of the stage, with MB just an arm's length from me, snapping his photo. This is one of those times I really wish I had a digital camera. Or even just a scanner. I have some fantastic pictures of him looking directly into my camera and singing -- I was literally standing at his feet. I think that's the closest I've ever physically been to a famous person.
- He ended the show by singing a cappella WITH HIS MIKE TURNED OFF. Boy's got a real set of lungs on him. The audience was dead quiet and he really projected all the way to the back of the house. Very impressive.

Overall, the show was way more entertaining than I had anticipated. Initially, the only reason I went to this concert was because I knew how much my mom wanted to see him, but I wound up having a really great time. I would even go to see him again!

Plus, my mother will never be able to live down locking her keys in her (running) car. That little incident will provide plenty of comedic fodder for months, perhaps even years, to come...

Labels: concerts, family, funny stuff, Michael Buble, music, travel, vacations

Floor seats, fifteenth row, baby!!




They're kicking off the U.S. leg of their world tour in Philadelphia!

Could this summer get any better?

Labels: concerts, music

As I have mentioned about a thousand times already, I went to see Journey and Def Leppard in concert at the Tweeter Center in Camden, NJ on Friday night. My observations of the concert, in no specific order…

• First of all, Journey was fantastic—much better than I had expected. Many people were saying that their set wasn’t long enough, but I thought that playing for one and a half hours was plenty. The big surprise? They didn’t play “Open Arms.” The hell?!? How can you go to a Journey concert and NOT hear “Open Arms?” Other than that, they played all their big hits of the 80s, plus a slew of newer songs that I didn’t know.

• Where did all these mulletheads come from? I never see any guys with mullets these days, but there were TONS of ‘em at that concert. And women with huge, mall-chick hair and many acid-washed denim accessories: jackets, jeans, purses, backpacks.

• Def Leppard: fucking brilliant! They sounded great. Played all their hits, and some stuff from their latest album, YEAH!, in which they reworked 60s and 70s classics from Sweet, David Essex, and Badfinger. They looked great—especially Phil Collen, who I later learned is a kick-boxing vegan. Seriously, the man has the body of a 30-year old. Unbelievable! I was totally drooling. Joe still looks good, too.

• At one point during the show, the fortysomething guy to my right turns to me and says, “Wow! You sure are a big fan, huh? You’ve been singing every word to every song they’ve played so far!” OH YEAH, I replied. “So do you think they’ll do an encore?” he asks. Well, of COURSE they’ll do an encore, I told him. “What song do you think they’ll do?” Duh. Pour Some Sugar on Me, I shouted. Is there any other song that is more encore-appropriate than that???? Sure enough, after they exit the stage and the audience begins chanting, they reappear and do a fab rendition of “Sugar.” Am I good or what?!?!

• I am ever so glad that we had reserved seating. It started thunderstorming around 9 p.m. and I was concerned for the throng of people sitting in the lawn seats. Lightning scares me and I probably would’ve left the concert altogether if we were out in the open.

• $12.50 for a frozen strawberry daiquiri in a “souvenir” plastic guitar-shaped cup is way too much money, but I will still gladly pay it when it is 90 degrees and 100% humidity. Yuck.

• I got home around 2 a.m., waaaay later than I’ve stayed out (or even stayed up when I’m at home) in a very long time. I’m getting old. Seriously.

Labels: concerts, deep thoughts, Def Leppard, friends, music

Looks like this summer will be quite eventful for me. Tonight is the Def Leppard/Journey show.

Next weekend, I'm taking my mom to see Michael Buble.

Then I'm going with her to see Steely Dan and Michael McDonald in August (shut up).

And about five minutes ago, I bought tickets to see these guys. also in August:



It's gonna be a great summer!!

Labels: concerts, Def Leppard, family, Foo Fighters, music

Do you know what tomorrow night is?



That's right baby, Def Leppard time!

For those readers who missed it, here is the reason why I am so freaking amped to go to this concert.

Also appearing onstage:



I'm still pretty psyched about seeing Journey, too, but they've kinda lost their lustre for me since Steve Perry left the group back in 1987.

I'll tell ya, I need a good night out. I am so stressed out about the DC-2 exam that I'm taking next Wednesday. I'm hardly sleeping at all this week and I've been doing some last-minute cramming. I need to chill for a night.

Soooooo excited!!!!!!!!!!

Labels: bitching, concerts, Def Leppard, music, stress, work

...but going to see Def Leppard in concert most definitely takes some of the sting out of it!!

WOOHOO! A few friends and I are going to the Def Leppard/Journey concert in June at the Tweeter Center in Camden. You cannot possibly imagine how much this excites me. Going to see DL live represents the fulfillment of a lifelong dream for me. I can barely sit still, I am that amped!!

When I was a kid, my parents were pretty much like the Gestapo. Every television program, movie, and album I wanted was heavily scrutinzed before my parents decided whether or not I could watch it or listen to it. For example, I was not allowed to watch MTV (then again, the MTV of my youth was like Mr. Fucking Rogers' Neighborhood compared to the soft porn they broadcast these days!). I was not allowed to own any cassette tapes with the parental warning labels on them. I was not allowed to talk on the phone on school nights after 7 p.m.

Yeah, it sucked. And yeah, they had hell to pay for it in later years, when I rebelled by sneaking my boyfriends into my bedroom in the middle of the night and spending almost two straight years stoned off my ass. Let me tell ya, I could roll the TIGHTEST joint ever! Ahem. But those are stories for another post...

Anyhoo. In 1987, my cousin Tracie, who is eight years my senior and was, in my eyes, the arbiter of all things cool, turned me on to Def Leppard. I was about 10 years old. This was around the time when Hysteria was first released. For me, it was love at first listen. Not only did I immediately adore their music, but I also developed an extreme prepubescent crush on Rick Allen, the one-armed drummer.

All of my weekly allowance was funneled to the purchase of magazines like Metal Edge and Hit Parader, as I began to accumulate photos of the band. At one point, I had over four hundred posters and pictures of Def Leppard taped to the walls of my bedroom. My parents were suspicious, but they never made me take down those posters. Tracie, knowing how strict my parents were, made me a copy of Hysteria on a blank, unmarked cassette tape. I listened to it nearly every waking minute of each day, until it eventually was eaten by my Walkman.

I decided to take the chance and buy my own copy of Hysteria at Wall to Wall Sound and Video (remember that store?). Shortly thereafter, my parents were on to me. They read the playlist and saw song titles like "Women," "Pour Some Sugar on Me," and "Armageddon It" (my mother: "Is this that SATANIC music?!?") and immediately took the tape away from me. I was crushed. I begged and pleaded with them to give me back the tape, to no avail. They wouldn't even reimburse me the damn allowance money that I spent to buy it. I was crushed...but only briefly.

You see, what they DIDN'T realize was that I knew that they'd hidden the tape in one of the drawers of my father's dresser. So as soon as my parents weren't around, I snatched the tape and dubbed another copy of it for myself. Then I replaced the original back in my dad's dresser, and they were never the wiser.

I was a sneaky, underhanded, conniving child. Indeed.

So going to see Def Leppard in concert now is guaranteed to bring back all of those fond memories for me.

Plus, they're playing with Journey. Freaking Journey! DON'T STOP...BELIEVIN'!

(I know, Steve Perry hasn't been with Journey in years, so I'm kinda bummed out about that, but still. There is NO way I would miss this show.)

My real concern is, should I break out the acidwashed denim and curl my bangs sky-high for this show?

Labels: childhood, concerts, decisions, Def Leppard, family, friends, memories, music

I love surprises -- getting them and giving them.

My mom and I usually take a trip together every year. It's pretty fun, a nice bonding experience, and we somehow manage not to kill each other by the end of our vacation. In 2003, we went to Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon. In 2004, we drove up to Niagara Falls and then on to Toronto. Last year, we didn't take a trip because of the time and expense constraints (mine) associated with moving into a new house.

Just a few weekends ago, while we were out shopping together, the topic of this year's potential trip came up in our conversation. We both agreed that we wanted to go somewhere...but couldn't really figure out where we wanted to go.

As we drove from place to place, discussing what we should do, Michael Buble's latest CD played in the background. I introduced my mom to his music a few months ago, and I'm almost sorry that I did. She is IN LOVE with this guy, who's my age, by the way. I mean, she behaves like a hormonal teenager in a Beatlemania-type induced trance whenever she talks about him. It's kind of creepy, actually.

But after thinking about it, I decided to surprise my mom last week. I was crawling the web and happened upon Michael Buble's website. Lo and behold, he is in the midst of touring right now. In fact, he's playing the Borgata Casino in Atlantic City in early March! I rushed over to Ticketmaster.com to see if I could score a couple tickets to his show...but it was sold out. In TWO DAYS. Amazing, considering he's not exactly mainstream. Bummer.

So I searched his name on Ticketmaster's general search. Turns out that the only concert not sold out is in April at the Turning Stone Casino near Syracuse, NY, which is about a four-hour drive from here. It's not my first pick for a vacation, but my mom's worth it, and I knew she would be totally psyched to go. So I took a chance and bought two tickets, plus went to the casino's website and booked a room for one night.

I could barely contain my excitement after my purchases. I called my parents' house to share the news, but she wasn't home from work yet. I waited in agony for her to call me back. Finally, my phone rang several hours later, and I set her up perfectly.

After making the normal small talk, I said, "So, you know how we were talking about what to do for our trip this year?"

She said, "Yeah..."

"I made an executive decision about it tonight," I said, hardly able to keep the glee out of my voice.

Her tone took on an alarmed edge. "WHAT?"

I said, "I booked a night at the Turning Stone Casino and Resort in upstate New York in April."

"You did WHAT?" Hoo boy. Now she was reeeeally upset. "Why the hell would I want to go there? Can you cancel the reservation?"

Clearing my throat, I said, "Well, I did book it for a reason. Do you know why I booked it?"

"No, I don't, and frankly, I'm pretty pissed that you..." she began.

I cut her right off before she went into full tirade mode. "BECAUSE WE'RE GOING TO SEE MICHAEL BUBLE IN CONCERT THERE!" I shrieked.

She gave me the EXACT reaction I'd hoped for. She began screaming and laughing. "Oh my God! You didn't! We're not! Oh, I can't believe it! I'm so excited! You're the best daughter ever!"

Labels: concerts, family, Michael Buble, music

I got an email on Friday night from my friend Renee in Calgary, AB, Canada (some of the readers of my old blog may remember my post about finding her after not seeing her since we were about 14).

"Guess what? Jordan Knight is playing in Calgary this weekend. How funny is that? It's not even at a good bar. Remember our old days of NKOTB? Weren't you obsessed with his brother? Maybe you should fly in just to see it..."

HAH! Yes, I will admit it: I was rabidly obsessed with New Kids on the Block in the late 80s/early 90s. Oh, the shame!

Renee was correct, though. I loved, loved, LOVED Jordan's brother, Jon. Just LOVED him. Went to all the concerts, had all their albums, spent all my allowance money on stupid preteen magazines--BOP, Teen Beat, et. al--that detailed his stats (favorite color: black; favorite food: Italian, first record owned: Snoopy's Christmas; likes girl who are sweet and fun to be with), and had about 900 pictures and posters of him plastered on my bedroom walls. Ugh.

But, my dear blogworld buddies, I will share with you something that is even MORE embarrassing than that. (Does it get any more embarrassing than that? OH YES IT DOES!!) See, I was only 12 at the time, so that's a free pass, as far as I'm concerned.

However...do you remember when, in the late 90s, Jordan Knight had a minor comeback as a solo dance artist? Doing a one-hit wonder song called "Give It To You"? Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about! No need to be ashamed...I know you probably jammed to it, just like I did.

Well, he did a club tour supporting that album, which my three girlfriends and I just HAPPENED to hear about on the radio. And then we just HAPPENED to go to the club in Philadelphia where he HAPPENED to be playing that night. Yeah, and we HAPPENED to get right up in front of the stage before showtime. My friend Danielle was standing next to me, and when Jordan came out on stage, we immediately reverted into 12 year old fangurls, jumping up and down and screeching at the top of our lungs. I was clutching Danielle's hand so hard that she later said she thought I'd broken it. We screamed until we went hoarse. And when he left the stage, I swear to you, he looked directly AT ME and smiled his little dimpled grin, then WAVED to me. OMG!!!!! Get the smelling salts! Swoon!

Ahem.

But I will take comfort in the fact that we were certainly not the only girls in the crowd behaving like teenagers over him.

Thanks for reminding me, Renee!

Labels: celebrities, concerts, friends, funny stuff, memories, music, nostalgia