It has been a long time since I’ve gone to a concert. Quite honestly, I usually don’t bother because I find the ticket cost outrageous. Since I have season tickets to the Kennedy Center, I suppose I feel I get out for entertainment often enough. So, Saturday when a friend called to ask if I’d like to see Bryan Adams perform in Baltimore I didn’t jump at the chance, even though I did go.
First, the friend, HMS, that offered the tickets is a gent who I have known for a few years. I was really not sure I wanted to go because I am dating a wonderful man. EW is my boyfriend, and I say that because he is deserving of the title. I’m not one to shout all over Face Book that I’m in a relationship, and I keep the info about EW on the down low. I’m “out there” with the blog and my Face Book postings and EW should be allowed his anonymity.
I had gone to my place in Annapolis to hibernate because EW had his board in town all weekend and would be in marathon meetings. I’d planned to hang out in my place all day catching up on Bravo, giving myself a pedicure, and watching some DVDs. I had nothing but spa clothes with me. So there I was on the phone with HMS putting up a bit of resistance about the concert. I had all the reasons not to go, when in actuality, there was no reason why I shouldn’t, so I relented.
Second, HMS would like to date the widow. I have made it clear that we will never date. I have no dating interest in HMS and there is one major reason that we will NEVER date. So, as years have passed, I have become his sounding board for his bad dates.
So, you get the picture? Is a free ticket to Bryan Adams worth giving up my “me time?” I knew EW would not care; he and I are very secure in out relationship and he would probably have chastised me if I didn’t go. I kept reminding myself that I could be snuggled on my couch with a glass of wine; I’d texted EW to let him know I was headed to the concert and he texted back, “Fun.” If only he knew.
So I decided to attend the concert. As with all things Widow I decided to settle in and enjoy the night. I was pleased to see the stage contained a piano and microphone only. HMS remarked that there was no band. Ummm…did you read your tickets? They stated it was the Bryan Adams Bare Bones Tour…you know, like MTV Unplugged. I was actually happy to see the minimal stage because I new it was going to be a pleasant concert without the head banging background band. It would be civil. I was not surprised to see a sign in the lobby that stated drinks could be consumed in the theater during the concert and I was not surprised to see a sign that no cameras or recording devices were allowed. There was a “no cell phone” circle with the red line through it displayed as well.
So we settled into our nosebleed seats at the Hippodrome…not quite the nosebleed seats of the Capital Center from back in the day, but we were definitely in last minute seats. No sooner had we settled in than HMS began chatting me up. What did I do for the holidays because his sucked. What did I do for New Year because his sucked, on and on. Why did I go? I didn’t need a crystal ball to have predicted how the conversations would go. I mentioned that I’d spent time in New York with EW before Christmas and I knew that I’d crossed a boundary with HMS. Like Bryan Adams sings, “Cuts Like a Knife.” I now his heart was stabbed because he can chat about his dates, but I have never shared any information about who I have dated or where or what I’ve done. EW is different. We are in a relationship. I have a “boyfriend.” I really didn’t want to discuss EW with HMS. I felt bad. I’ve never led HMS on in any form or fashion. I have made it crystal clear there is no hope for a relationship. Friendship? Yes…but that is it…I always remind him that a movie now and then or a cocktail is not some false hope for him that I might relent and consider dating him. That will never happen.
So, the subject changed and the concert began. It was splendid. I’d forgotten how many hits Bryan Adams had over the years. He had many songs that tug at the heart and I was wishing that EW were sitting there because there were words that resonated with our relationship. One in particular struck home and I emailed the lyrics to EW when I got home.
I loved the intimate setting in the Hippodrome. Bryan Adams talked with the audience between songs and often shared some humor about his travels. Women were hollering that they loved him. Their voices pierced the darkness and it became an “I Love You” contest. After many ILY’s, a woman hollered that she’d driven three hours to see him. Not to be outdone, a voice boomed through the darkness that they had driven seven hours…the audience cracked up because it was a deep basso male voice.
Throughout the concert, audience members were surreptitiously snapping photos and videos with their phones. Booze and cameras mix well at most parties. This concert was no different. The Hippodrome encouraged adult beverages during the concert and no photos. What are you thinking? The two don’t mix. So the tussle between concertgoers and the ushers and usherettes began. BTW, the ushers and usherettes were dressed in tuxedos. How damn incongruent. It was one of the first oddities I pointed out to HMS. Rock concert and tuxedos: too funny.
So, the folks in front of me were snapping away, photos of themselves, the stage, whatever they deemed photo worthy and then it started….the usherette came by and gave them a stern lecture about the rules. HUH? They are swilling beer. Do you think they care? They had no reasoning. She left and they decided to be less obvious as they videoed song after song on a phone and actually uploaded a short clip to FB.
At one point, a commotion over my left shoulder between an usher and a photo snapper actually was louder than Bryan Adams. The one usher was at the top of her lungs threatening the folks that one more snap would cause her to evict them from the concert. Really? Whew, those tuxedo wearers take their job seriously. The folks directly behind me were snapping away on a regular basis. I really didn’t care other than the flash was blinding at times, but hey, to each his own.
Bryan Adams continued to talk up the audience and he mentioned individuals like Tina Turner and others who have covered his songs. He said that with the advent of YouTube anyone could cover his songs. One in particular that he mentioned was a young girl about 15 years old that a friend suggested he look at. He said he pulled up the video and the young lady was dressed very provocatively and he could imagine the pervs looking at the clip. He then pointed out that the clip had 15 million hits so he felt compelled to watch to the end to see what surprise was in store. Surprise, there was no surprise, just a 15-year-old skimpy dressed chick rocking out his song. I laughed and remarked out lout to HMS that it was now 15 million and one hits and it was if there was an echo in the room. Bryan Adams had paused for effect and repeated the line exactly as I’d said it seconds earlier. Needless to say we had a good laugh about that and I remarked I’d have to blog the craziness of the folks in the audience.
There was the very young Asian man who sat next to me. Seriously, he was so young he looked out of place with the mature audience. He was singing along to every tune, and I truly didn’t care because he WAS enjoying himself. The part that was annoying was that he couldn’t carry a tune. Even with Bryan Adams on stage to sing along with, he was off key. I though it was William Hung from Idol it was so bad. But no, just a local college kid out for a night with Bryan Adams.
As the concert was drawing to a close, Adams and his pianist left the stage and the encore clap began. Folks peeled out their phones to light the auditorium and I knew the usher Nazi’s were about to go into overdrive. Once those phones were unholstered, there was no putting them back. It was like a red carpet event. The flashes and videos were on overtime. I was laughing because of the boozed fueled bravery. I said to HMS that it was past the point of caring. Adams was coming for an encore and the threat of being kicked out had lost its power. Seriously, were the postage stamp sized pictures, blurred by the distance and stage lights really a cause for concern? Were the videos going to cut in on the revenue from the night? The disturbance of the ushers running up and down the stairs and threatening the concertgoers was more of an annoyance to me than the flash of the camera lights.
I was glad that I’d accepted the invite to see Bryan Adams. I knew I’d have to endure HMS inquiring about the widow’s dating life when I accepted the ticket. I’d made my bed so to speak. I endured and I enjoyed. I was very appreciative of the intimate setting at the Hippodrome. After all, I could finally hear the words to Adams songs. “Let’s Make a Night to Remember” made me sad I was not sharing the night with EW. And, “In the summer of 69” it was “My first real SIX STRING”, not my first real “SEX DREAM.”
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