So, as I said. I used my tickets as scratch paper so as not to let them go to waste. But things eventually came together, with lots of miracles, as they say.

What do I remember?

I tried to be really good and not stare at Justin all the time - even though I wanted to.

Norda continues to wear baffo outfits that take awhile to figure out. She and Julie wore funky bell bottoms. Graeme had a beautiful blue and silver shirt. John has either one or two black jackets. At first it looks woven with blue, and then it looks woven with purple. I didn't check to see if the color was consistent through a set and changed for the other or not. He has light blue suede shoes with red or leather ties. Alan wears grungy stuff - like pants with big white X's laced up the side and a big medallion necklace. Justin wore the white or uber-faded jeans and a navy sweatshirt with the silver Adidas shoes. I've had a thing for silver shoes, so that's swell. Billy dresses normally enough I don't remember any of his outfits. He was wandering around in the audience before one of the shows, had to call somebody on their cell phone to locate him.

Graeme said he had had a stroke in May. I didn't know that. Then, he wears an oxygen mask at times. That was sad. It made me feel like we were all soldiers in the war of life.

John was funny. He counted the balconies one night. The theatre was rather steep. During "IKYOTS," when Justin sang, "And somehow I'll return again to you," John pretended he was beating his wristwatch. Again, I laughed, as I have often resisted the impulse to do the same. I mean, thirty years is a long time; but it would be unseemly for me to even mention I thought about this.

Norda forgot her tambourine for the encore and then, in self-parody, snuck around the front of Julie's keyboard to snatch it. Then, returning behind the keyboard, she nodded her head side-to-side as if saying, "I'm a dork."

Justin wanted to give his pick to somebody in particular, but it was intercepted. Justin asked the interceptor to kindly give it to the lady, and the interceptor complied. That was nice of everybody.

Justin was talking to a lot of people in the audience. I can't hear him or read his lips; but I could hear all the weird comments John made. In Cedar Rapids, he mentioned Woodstock, but the crowd didn't roar. He mentioned the Isle of Wight, same silence; so he tried "Cedar Rapids!"

At Rockford, the place seemed full of stoners. I was actually uncomfortable enough at times to wonder, "What am I doing here?" This one dude came to the front of the stage and started making gross grabbing gestures at the lady performers. Chuck, the guy two seats down from me, then took it upon himself play usher and get the dude outside the pit. Chivalry remains.

The lighting is much better, methinks. I was actually watching the show instead of staring at refraction patterns on my contact lenses.

Four of us waited by the buses after one show, and Justin came out and waved to us.

What do I remember about Justin on stage? Let's see. I looked at him and then

I don't watch movies as a general rule. I watched "Atlas Shrugged" I & II, but that was for review. I went with the same guy to both shows. We were both libertarian and both wrote for local papers. So, we went and then went out to dinner so he could debrief me, use up all my wisdom, and leave me with aught but second-rate content for my review. It's OK. He's one of few people who lets me sing in his car; actually likes my Olivia Newton-John parody. Weird. Well, I enjoyed I & II enough I never bothered with III. I don't sit well for long spells unless ISAJ.

I'm much more shallow than you. I interpreted Atlas Shrugged to be about classical liberalism, as were the other Ayn Rand books. I read her nonfiction backwards, chapter by chapter so as not to get hoodwinked, and quite adored it all. After years of hearing, "How can you be a Libertarian if you've never read 'Atlas Shurgged'?" I buckled and read it and enjoyed it.

I support the themes I interpreted: Too much power in one place is bad, people must assert their own reason rather than relying on others to think for them, government should not be pay-for-play, coercion is evil, the absence of reason is evil, cooperation should be voluntary, centralized control gets corrupted and things get botched when left to bribable/disengaged goons with no reward for doing good or evil but going by the book.

I liked the character sketches. Dagny and Hank were kinda slow, willing to fight the corruption to the bitter end and thus only becoming fodder to fuel the evil people. The others jumped way earlier. I consider myself like Eddie - too dense to get it but dedicated to the cause nonetheless. (I'm thinking about how the varying individual delays in realizing it is necessary to assemble elsewhere under another banner when all went to Hades played out during the recent election, but I've said enough for an apolitical web site.) One could almost put names from today's scene on the cronies.

I doubted at first her assertion about alcoholism growing as the economy tanked. The economy of course tanked as rent-seeking became more lucrative than production. But man if beer isn't such the in thing here as the economy remains stagnant in pre-1970s poverty.

I'm embarrassed to admit I read the love scenes, but I liked her idea of romance being intellectually-driven. I forgive Rand for all the cigarettes. It was her way of illustrating man controlling fire. Mum couldn't stand Rand because she was immoral and atheist. I hold my nose on the immorality and say her criticisms of established religion were just and true. Weird rituals and mind control, dominance and submission, have nothing to do with my Higher Power.

Yeah. Most people I know are like you, and read Rand in the third grade and dismissed it as hogwash. I'm still enamored. Otay. nuff said.

What were we talking about? Oh. I heard a rumor from two people. Maybe they were trying to snow me, but they said a guitar tech said John and Justin would do solo tours this coming spring. The auto mechanic told me another rumor. When he found out I was from North Carolina, he asked, "Did you hear the rumor about butter in North Carolina?" After I replied in the negatory, he said, "Well, I'd better not spread it around." Hahahahahahaha.

[Had to edit. I malaprop when sleepless.]

I agree with the above Randroids. I don't know that I obsess so much as I integrated what I learned from Rand into my belief system.

Here's a short synopsis of odds and sods:

Overall, the concerts didn’t disappoint. For the most part, everything was executed with technical precision and duplicated any other concert. Following are some things that strayed from the norm.

The first night got off to a bad start. I was in front and I thought Justin looked straight at me and shook his head no as if to say, “Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no.” I went into Radiohead mode and my creep complex remained the rest of the night. He continued to mouth stuff here and there and seemed to acknowledge a lot of friendly faces in the crowd that night and the next. The third night, he stared at the back of the venue most of the time.

Justin seriously attacked some notes (high specific impulse). A couple times, Justin acted like he had a sore shoulder, wincing when he hefted his guitar. He has what looks like a small, red, metallic cylinder by his water bottles.

I was too close to the stage the first night. Whenever anybody came to our side, I had to look into my lap, as it seemed rude to look at anybody from that angle. I couldn’t really stare at Justin. It would have been uncomfortable from that range.

I usually got behind a TV baby. Twice, I was beside a shrill whistler. The second dude was causing my ear drum to vibrate at macroscopic frequencies. Not good. I was happy he was so happy he wanted to make that much noise, so I couldn’t complain.

I don’t like to stand up for several reasons, among which are that I’m tall and I feel like I’m trying to call attention to myself. I don’t dance, so I look like a big, ugly stick in the mud. Most girls can get away with it though. They’re petite and they know how to dance and it works with the show. When I was in front, I was down in the corner, and so I couldn’t see anybody on the stage when the folks next to me stood. I was also in front of the handicapped section, and those people weren’t going to stand up if I did. So, I did the unconscionable and stood up to watch the show. I think I will always feel bad about that.

Graeme gave his drumsticks to a kid in the handicap section who was the epitome of gratitude. The look on his face was incomparable. Later, the crowd was cheering and I turned to see he was on the stage, holding the sticks aloft, taking a bow for the crowd, still exuding joy like no other.

One night, when Justin does the infinite sustain thingy with his guitar in “Higher and Higher,” it sounded a couple octaves lower and played in a slow wave. I don’t know how that happened. I was impressed at Justin’s nonchalant string bending. He just does it, unlike other guitar heroes who act like they’re lifting a car to do it. His guitar dropped out to my ears for one song, but nobody else seemed to miss anything.

During “Gypsy,” there was silence in the vocals for the biggest scream thing, for lack of a better word. John haltingly moved to the mic to fill in. Justin kept looking back at Julie. Then, he shrugged, as if to say to Julie that he thought she was going to pick it up, but it was OK and then gestured/mouthed to John that it was OK.

Justin was singing all of “Question” two nights. During “Nights in White Satin,” his voice was unbelievably clear and strong. I cried the third night it was so good.

“Meanwhile” was always nice. Echoing in my mind are Norda’s non-sequitur ending for it and Justin’s “Who-a-o-a-o-a-o-a-oh,” during “Say It with Love.”

For the encore, Alan would signal to the audience to get louder until somebody would make an obnoxiously loud noise. Then he’d signal all right with the thumb and forefinger together in an O. One night, there was a noise and Norda scurried as if to shut off the keyboard. She and Julie nodded together and scan-pointed in synch. It was cute.

In Merrillville, the CEO of the venue went on stage before the show and announced the board of directors had decided four hours before the show that they were not going to tear the Star Theater down as had previously been planned. The crowd roared. So, when Graeme came down to talk, he mentioned it again, but there was no response. “That didn’t go over well,” said he, or something like that. He tried again and then said, “Go ahead. Talk amongst yourselves.” He was so right. I had to laugh.

Outfits: Justin wore a dark button-down shirt and black slacks with plain light brown loafers two nights. When I was close to the stage, I was impressed by the fabric of the slacks – it flowed and seemed impossible to wrinkle. He wore the black sweatshirt cut sweater with white jeans and the silver Adidas shows the other. John wore black jeans. I decided he did have two coats or maybe one reversible coat, but it was definitely blue for one segment and violet for the other. He wore his blue suede shoes at least once. Graeme wore black jeans and loud shirts. One night he had his pretty blue and silver shirt.

Norda was back to black bottoms, may have had white jeans one night, and camisoles of questionable cuts and a jacket that she would later take off. Julie wore sleeveless smocks. Twice she wore hip boots with about 7 inches of heel. She walks perfectly in them. One night, she wore them with a balloon skirt and leather top. The last night, she wore them with her plaid mini dress with coat tails. Alan was invisible mostly. One night, I thought he wore a muscle shirt, but strained to see he didn’t, as it seemed that would have been a fashion mistake for his look. I made a point to see what Billy was wearing one night, since it never catches my attention. It was a dark button-down top and dark pants.

Julie’s hair was pretty the third night. It looked kind of like Justin’s. Norda wore the wetlook. Justin’s hair is always perfect. John’s is back to the fuller look.

The lights continued to be very good. I was so happy to be able to see the guys on stage instead of staring at refraction patterns on my contact lenses and trying to guess which of five images was the real Justin. I complimented Mick (sp?), and he said he’d been doing this for I don’t remember how many years, and then added that they did get new lights. The backgrounds were nice and complemented the music. The gingerbread man is still in the tree during “Tuesday Afternoon.”

I don’t think Justin gave any picks away. John gave one away one night and acted as if he was going to also throw his guitar into the audience. I don’t have any use for picks, but a guitar?

The fans were really great, happy, and friendly everywhere. They were really nice when I was worried sick about the car. (The car went on the blitz the day I was supposed to leave. It had just gotten out of the shop two weeks ago, and it refused to start again. I asked the boss if I could borrow his car, and he agreed. Then, the check engine light came on and I feared I’d cracked the engine or something. Folks reassured me and gave me an idea of where I might go for help in the morning.)

Waiting by the buses, the first night just a few hung out. They slowly dissipated. Two girls and I remained. Then, the two girls acted like they were going to leave. I didn’t want to be the only one there, so I left. As I walked back to my car, Justin and his bodyguard (not Udo) came out. I waved and he replied with some niceties I couldn’t make out and proceeded on to where I had been standing. There was a big commotion with about four or so people. I didn’t look back, was too afraid to run back and be a part of the action.

The next night, it rained, so nobody else stood by the buses. One by one the band members came out. All but Billy and Norda politely acknowledged me. Julie struck up a friendly conversation. Finally, two security guards told me everybody was on the bus. It was not so. The bus waited. Justin was not on it. Why couldn’t they just say, “You have to go now?” I left in a huff, feeling all my nightmares had come true. Justin truly did hate me and was refusing to come out until I left.

The other night, we had to stand far from the buses. There was a crowd like there normally is in Chicagoland. When John came out, he did some weird dancing for the cameras. Justin saw the crowd and then rushed beside the bus. He waved to all the folks when he came into view.

Like Moses, you supposes erroneously. I wanted Egg McMuffin to win and regret I didn't do much at all to help. As for my friends, the bosses were all high on one guy. People at church were high on him or the chick. All my Libertarian friends wanted their guy to win. So, I was a loose wheel. A couple ladies at church and some facebook pals said they agreed with me, but nobody agreed enough to take a bumper sticker or pass out literature or anything like that. I might have done much more had my editors been supportive of material supporting somebody besides their guy or if it weren't a conflict of interest for me to contribute content to other outlets. For awhile, though, when the numbers began narrowing and things were lining up for the singular scenario that would work, I thought a miracle was going to happen, and I couldn't believe my eyes. But then it didn't. (I'm trying to take the bait and talk about politics without talking about politics and it isn't working, is it?)

Anything I put on the computer is public domain. Ask Julian Assange.

I don't realize it, but we're not is-posed to talk politics here.

You give me too much credit, as do most people. I voted and let people yell at me in vain to try to persuade me, and I was blessed not to be brainwashed by all the propaganda here at work. If you hack my email, you can find the articles I filed with the local rag.

Justin has a new album out, as we knew. I didn't realize it was a double album. As I read through the titles, I took a walk down memory lane.

Which reminds me, I had a very special, cosmic kind of experience election night. For a moment, everything came together and I felt there was purpose and meaning and love and all that. Then, through calm, things appeared to unravel. Two days later, I realized the meaning of it all. I had gotten my answer, but it wasn't as I expected. Does that make sense? I could give you full details, but that would only sound loopier.