I know I mentioned this previously, but only in passing. I forgot to dish the details! So sorry!
For Christmas, Poetroad took me to the U2 concert (their last stop of the tour for the year). Since I have such a long-standing and vast love for the band (particularly Larry Mullen Jr. - I've always had an affinity for drummers), this was the best Christmas present ever.
When we got to the concert, I was surprised to see the diversity in age. Both young and old were there - some people even brought their children. Just as varied was the flavor of concertgoers. From the multi-tattooed, fish-net-stocking, black lipstick wearing peops to the overly dressed sparkle shirted high-heeled big hair multi large jewelry wearing folk, all types were enjoying the same tunes.
Of course I felt in kindred spirit with those who cheered and grooved and sung out the words to songs from the early albums (Boy, October, Under a Blood Red Sky, Unforgettable Fire, etc.). And they played a lot of the old tunes too. This concert did have a decidedly political message, but what can you do? The Irish know how to promote a cause.
So for over two and a half hours we soaked up the music and media presentation - it was divine. After the concert, Poetroad bought us concert t-shirts. Then we spent over an hour and a half getting back to our ride that was parked in the city. Thank you public transportation planners. Perhaps you people could plan to have the public transport come a little more frequently than every half hour after a huge concert? Luckily, we were able to squeeze onto the third tram.
Anyway, Poetroad, you did good. You know what I like! (Oh, and the jewelry and the new U2 cd were just a bonus on Christmas morning). How did I get so blessed as to catch him?
1 week ago
1 comment:
You two were a match made in heaven. My brother knew one of us would work for The Poet. And since I arrived on the scene first - well - I got to introduce you. It was truly some of my best work. And for the record - The Poet was NOT passed over for One-nut Bigger.
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