Sunday, December 7, 2008

YaYa and LuLu's 1st Ever Concert - pt 2

We took our seats as Natasha Bedingfield was finishing her act. YaYa is a fan of one of her songs, the one she was singing at that moment as it turns out, and so she was immediately in awe.

Actually we all were. I was still shocked about the seats, and the girls were blown away by the size of the venue, the crowd, the noise level, and the flurry of activity. Their tension was palpatable for a moment there.

When the opening act ended I passed around earplugs - feeling mighty like a mighty Good Daddy to have thought of bringing them - and tried to raise Lisa on her cell. No dice. So I called her friend's husband two hours to the north of Milwaukee and asked him for his wife's cell number. Within minutes the kids and I were waving hello to Lisa and friends, all of whom had snuck down into the 200's themselves.

They were still in the last row however, whereas we, if you recall, were in the first. Ahem.

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I'm going to interrupt the story for a moment to mention that all the photos you'll see were taken at that very show; the good, the great, the mediocre, and the awful. They come from my cell phone, Jolene's camera, Nikki K, and from the sister of one of my employees.

That sibling charged me - charged me! - five dollars for a CD of mediocre to poor concert photos. As she knew my intentions, and knew I make no profit from the blog, I objected. I paid the money, but as I didstated it was BS that violated Blockhead karma. The brother looked like he wanted to swing at me, but whatever. It was bogus.


There was ten or fifteen minutes between the end of the opening act and NKOTB, and I can't remember anything of that time, but I'm reasonably sure it was filled with terror at the thought that the girls would meltdown mid-concert.

But that was temporarilly forgotten as the introduction started playing. Cue the screaming, which fascinated my girls. And then, the sounds of 'Single' and the concert began, with the guys rising from the stage.

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Confession time: it was downright embarrasing how big of a smile, and how much honest enjoyment and excitement I felt at that moment. There is nothing like the zeal of a convert . . .

The girls both sang along to Single and Right Stuff, but YaYa was still a little intimidated. Lu was up and dancing to my right, but YaYa not only stayed seated but asked me to sit down because I was blocking her view.

I obliged her, but you can't enjoy a concert properly sitting on your butt, at least I can't. That was a bit of a buzzkill for me.

'Round about the fourth song LuLu asked me when they'd play Summertime. I told her it was near the end of the conert and she growled her dissapointment. She then announced she was going to rest and proceeded to zonk out in her seat. She slept THROUGH THE REST OF THE CONCERT.

That means she slept through all the noise, the screaming, the booming music, the literally shaking floor beneath us when the entire section was jumping, even the slightly drunk woman to her right who stumbled and fell into her. I couldn't even rouse her for Summertime. She might as well have been comatose.

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A few songs later YaYa began bawling. She'd dropped one of her earplugs onto the arena floor below us. No big deal - I had others - but it was way past her bedtime and she's a girl who really needs her sleep. The usher on the floor strolled over and offered to replace the earplugs herself (that's how close we were), and a woman to our left asked what was the matter. All told the incident was a non-event and took up five minutes of the night. But I tell it here to record it as the ONLY 'bad' moment the kids provided that night.

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Throughout the concert YaYa continued to sing along with any and all songs from the new album, but blanked out on many of the classic stuff. The silence was noticeable.

"Didn't your Mom ever teach you the words to this?" I asked during Cover Girl.

She shook her head.

"Well I'm sorry honey. That's just bad parenting on our part. " I said.

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I object to this next shot, but Lisa wants it preserved for posterity.

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To be continued . . .

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