I know that’s its been a while since I have posted an entry, however all of my recent energy has been spent anxiously awaiting the Neil Diamond concert.
A few months ago I was quite excited to purchase Neil Diamond tickets. I quickly called my mother and father and convinced them to get tickets as well. It was the perfect plan. On the eve of the concert my brother and I were able to walk into the venue along side my parents, making it appear that we were the wonderful children who brought their parents to the concert, instead of just two 20-somethings who know almost every song by heart and were just really pumped to see him. We had to go through security first, my brother thought he was prepared as he had recently went to the 311/Snoop Dogg Concert (which is basically the same crowd). I on the other hand wasn’t and took one of my typical handbags (which could hold 12″ sub and 2 liter of soda if necessary) and failed to remove my camera. Security Lady nicely told me to take the camera back to the car because “Neil would have none of that”. After carefully assessing the situation I had another plan. I moved to the back of another line, with a male security guard who appeared to be fearful of actually looking through a woman’s handbag. I got through. Once we got into the Qwest arena we split, as my parents had the funds to buy better tickets (as parents always do).
The concert was fun. It was a tad bit more lively than when I saw Mr. Diamond at the wax museum. What’s great about traveling with the same band for 40 years is that it’s similar to a marriage of a similar length of time. They pretty much just do their own thing and say, “don’t look at me that way, I can do what I want”. This was most apparent in the dancers. Currently pop artists have the entire kit and kaboodle of choreographers and dancers. They “pop and lock” in unison to execute impeccable routines. **I attempted once and bought Darrin’s Dance moves from MTV. I have now proudly displayed “the robot” in the Guggenheim in NYC and at my best friends wedding. Now, the “Diamond Girls” have their own agenda. They’ve sung Crunchy Granola Sweet more times than people have asked what the h3ll the song is about, and they make no attempt to dance together. Instead, when the music starts, so do they. There is a bit of flailing of the arms, shaking of the hips, and I might’ve even seen a bit of the running man mixed in. At times it even appeared as though there were not even at the same concert.
He kept the crowd lively with his ever popular hits of Sweet Caroline, Cracklin’ Rose, and America. I did get a few strange looks when I yelled out “Piano Man” as a request. My favorite way to take Mr. Diamond will always be Forever in Blue Jeans (yes, I know, that was a cheesy ending but since I titled the entry with a song title, I wanted to end it with one too – I’m taking a not so creative writing class and they teach you stuff like that).