lunazure said

Are you little trollettes getting bored again???? Sigh.... here we go again with the toxic stuff. .

No, not bored but you obviously are. Your untruths on your blahg are amusing.

There was a very nice show last night in Wilmington. The acoustics were coulda-heard-a-pin-drop. The instruments were isolated and much more was perceivable than usual. There was a bad whistle in one of the early songs that went away. Norda had to have her power pack fixed during the show. Then, at one point, Justin and John just stopped singing. I thought they were going to tear the song down, but the rest of the band kept going and Justin and John started singing again. Justin has a sniffle, and he sounded like he was straining somewhat. To clarify, most singers when they strain sound awful. Justin, however, sings through it, an amazing talent. He also had to stop singing to sneeze. I remember long ago when he held off a sneeze for an entire stanza. His voice, particularly during "Nights" continues to be amazingly perfect. A friend thought Justin might be having back trouble, but I was too insensitive to catch it. He walked off the stage during Graeme's soliloquy. I thought it was because I stared at him too much, but then told myself I was not that important. Justin appears to be acknowledging lots of fans in the audience, too. Whereas my friend thought Justin was not feeling well, he looks very good to me. He always does, but the last few tours, he was looking very tired. He even messed his hair up during the show.

The light display looked damaged during "Slide Zone," but it may have been artistic rendering. The backdrop for "Fly Me High" is really distracting. And the visuals for "Tuesday Afternoon" always leave me wondering what the gingerbread man is doing in the shrub.

The new drummer is all right. All the supporting musicians are little people. When they form their chorus line, Justin and John look a full head taller. Norda has a new wardrobe, and Julie continues to wow with crazy shoes. She and Alan are kind the way they interact with fans. Alan dances with Graeme nowadays, while playing keyboards. John has a pretty new blew and black jacket. Graeme has some new jokes about old age.

People were going crazy over Udo at the bus after the show.

The music in general remains transcendental and soothing for the soul. I criticized what fell short, but the rest was beautiful and renewing. The musicianship is nearly impeccable. I am very grateful to have the privilege to pick up some shows this tour. It was amazing how attending anything this tour all fell together for me in the 11th hour.

Thanks for the review, Leslee.

Chigger, no need for your little dots after my post. Like Bonnie, I stand behind everything I write and had NO intention of editing. You, on the other hand, are speechless and defenseless.

From the land of the self-absorbed and subtly toxic . . .

I went to a concert again last night. It was a struggle. Traffic was horrible, turning the ignition off three times parked on the interstate. Added to the construction, or rubbernecking, was the great new program launched to fine anybody speeding even 1 mph over the limit - a sound bite retracted the next day leaving everybody uncertain which was the case, I seriously wondered what traffic engineers do when we have so many of these horrible tie-ups in construction zones. Added to that were multiple wardrobe malfunctions and a bad hair day. I actually got tangled up in my clothes changing in the ladies' room. I was so angry at everything I ate a whole bag of spicy plantain chips I had gotten to keep me awake on the way back. So, I got to the venue in the nick of time, only to have the garage attendant doing the slow count. Grrrrr. Then, there was a hangup with the folks in front of me at Will Call.

I had a nice seat. I was expecting to have a good time, but during the first song, Julie was acting as if she had a piece of grit or a hair caught under a contact lens. I couldn't bear to watch. She kept grabbing her eye and bending over. Then, "The Voice," one of the best songs ever began, and Julie was still doing the "gonna scratch my cornea" routine. I didn't enjoy this song either. How does one drift away with pleasant music with such a scene of pain in view? I thought surely somebody would see her and call for a break until she got things straightened out. Justin did look her way a couple times, and she smiled sweetly back as if nothing was happening. During the intermish, I mentioned it to a couple fans who hadn't noticed it at all. Maybe I imagined it.

After "The Voice," I made a total donkey out of myself, "Julie has a problem with her eye!" I shouted. Fortunately for me, it went either unheard or ignored. The music went on. It was really uncomfortable. Sure, Julie's a great musician to carry on, but if it was something under a contact lens, it could cause permanent damage. Julie grabbed her water bottle and maybe fixed things up after that, but I kept watching to see if she was OK. That set the mood for the show.

My next memory was during "IKYOTS." Justin looked in the general direction of where I was sitting and mouthed something. I am horrible at reading lips, but it looked like he said, "Do you have a problem?" Thought I, "Why, yes. I did. Normally, MB's concerts are transfiguring for me. I leave all my anxieties and ill-will behind and get lost in transcendent harmonies and total admiration for Justin. This time, I couldn't find the zone. I was so mad in fact, I was considering doing something foolish after the show. Oh, no. Did Justin just intervene AGAIN in my life to stop me from making a bad decision? He's done that at at least three critical junctions before. He's so amazing." Then, tears started to fall from my eyes and continued for the rest of the show. It was more an emotion than any thought, but I continued to search for reasons nonetheless.

Little things agitated me, and I could see a negative side in everything. The bulk of the show was riddled with distractions - my own contact lens problems, the girl next to me drowning out the band with her singing, the guy behind me needing to videograph the band and not my fat behind, the girl on the other side begging me to irritate the guy behind and stand up anyway, and my jealousy over all the girls with whom Justin was having such a good time interacting up front. For the former, I reminded myself that Jesus loves and is smiling down on everybody enjoying the band members and the beautiful music in their own way; for the latter, I wished I could stop being such a toxic fool and be more like them. I had come to bask in love, beauty, and spiritual enrichment; and I was a wreck. "Love loves even when it hurts," I reminded myself; but the most impressive thought passing through my mind was the words of my friend Maggie, "Buck up!" (Sung to the tune F# F# D) A few songs from the end, I seriously considered bolting for the ladies' room to have a good bawl, but didn't .

After the show, some of us hung out by the bus. Justin rode shotgun. He got his kerchief to wipe his nose, and while I was thinking he must be sick, the words came out of my mouth, "He's crying!" Justin waved and blew a kiss to the crowd afterward. It was a perfect (happy) ending to a disastrous debacle.

Thanks for answering and sharing, etc. You can see the gingerbread man in the shrub in the upper left corner of the "Tuesday Afternoon" video.

Beautiful music makes me cry, and I tend to be maudlin and melancholy as it is. But also, I am obsessed with Justin. How can I not be? He's so gallant. He has all my admiration. So, I go to shows and get lost in the good feelings from the excellent music and musician(s), and then I worry I'm being as creepy as my stalker. I don't wish that on Justin, no way, no how. And then I ask why I go to the concerts. I want to more than anything I know, but I don't see how I'm helping the human race at all. When I was watching Julie fight with her eye, I asked myself why I should concern myself only with visible suffering with all the injustice and cruelty all over the world. Then, I go back to the day I spent in the heavenly waters of Hyannis (between concerts). I started feeling guilty about feeling so good when everybody else was hard at work, and then it occurred to me that I was where every person strives to be and so shouldn't feel guilty. In that sense, Moodies concerts are a refuge from the insane world, an opportunity to be safe and sane and very happy for a couple hours at least.

I'm starting to get some sleep and regretting it. I dread it, but looking back, I enjoyed the lifestyle of in 5-8 hours at work, driving 2-6 hours, to a show, driving 2-6 hours back home, stopping for a nap and a shower, and starting the whole thing over again. Now, I stare at the Moodies calendar and ask if I couldn't muster the courage to ask for yet another day off. I hate Las Vegas, but I'd love to do the residency thingy. Then, I might run into Justin in a gift shop, and he, again, would hide his face behind a big plate, and I'd back away feeling like a dweeb. Oh, it would be so fun.

Ha ha. You made me laugh a couple times.