Not Even the Chair

There comes a time in every American's life when she wonders, "Does Neil Diamond still got it?" Ladies and gentlemen, HE DOES.

Our first act of any significance in 2009 was to drive down to Las Vegas, sans kid, to see the legend at the MGM Garden Arena (James' Christmas gift to me). It was a Friday night.

We arrived at the venue somewhat travel worn and weary, but starry-eyed. I was unsure what the appropriate dress for a Neil Diamond concert was, so we went as we were, in our jeans and sneakers--it was in an arena after all, and the man does say, "forever in bluejeans, babe." After determining that all of the restaurants near the arena were more than we wanted to spend on a dinner, and not wanting to go too far afield, we opted for the food court.

Two slices of pizza, one hot dog, and one well-drenched caesar salad later, we joined the throngs of pedestrians seeing and being seen. It took not long to observe that we were quite under-dressed for such a pastime in such a location. I had honestly thought that the art of dressing up had been lost--or at least that there was no one public place/event that one could go to and reliably find the majority of his fellowmen dressed to the nines. Apparently a Vegas weekend is such a place, at least at a moderately fancy casino. Sequins, silk, feathers, and cleavage abounded. I ached at the missed opportunity to join my sisters in at least the first three ingredients of a fancily-dressed Vegas experience. Ah well, once we got to our seats in the bleachers, I didn't feel so bad. Stilettos and stands don't mix.

People-watching before the show rendered some interesting results. We were removed from the majority of the crowd by several generations, though there were a few other youngsters smattered about. There was a twenty-something indie kid who brought his mom, a young family of four, a few frat boys, and lots of older ladies dressed much younger than their age. 'Course we were in the nosebleeds, so the crowd may have been very different down on the floor.

The show was AWESOME. Neil struck a pose at the end of each song--no really, e-v-e-r-y song ended with all stage lights cutting except for one or two trained on him in some dramatic stance. He opened his set with a lively rendition of "Holly Holy", a really lively rendition--then proffered other classic hits such as "Cherry Cherry," "Love on the Rocks," "You Don't Bring Me Flowers," "Forever in Bluejeans," "He Ain't Heavy," "Brooklyn Streets," "I Am I Said," and of course, "Sweet Caroline." Neil was a gracious host, affable, personable, and totally in tune with what the majority of his fans were there to see: the old stuff, and he gave it to us with gusto. He did do some songs from his new album, which got less of a rise out of the crowd (not that most of the crowd was rising to the occasion of seeing NEIL DIAMOND in CONCERT, the guy next to me didn't stand up once during the entire show).

He ended the first set with "Hell Yeah," which was absolutely perfect. Of course, the minute he started to make his farewells, folks were on their feet filing out of the arena (Gotta beat the rush!). SERIOUSLY?? He's still talking to you, and you turn your backs on him? And besides the appalling rudeness of it, you really aren't going to stick around for the encore????? You don't deserve to be here--you don't deserve to LIVE!! Nobody turns his back on Neil. Every one of those geriatrics rushing home for overdue bedtime got the hairy eyeball from yours truly.

We, of course, remained faithfully at our seats, though standing and screaming ourselves hoarse through the entirety of the encore and until we were quite sure he was not coming back for a second. That was a sad moment. Out we shuffled with the masses. We were electrified; I couldn't stop smiling. James didn't get his voice back for at least four days. It was a good concert.