Up close and personal

So, a couple months ago, Tracy tells me that she'd like to see Clint Black in concert for her birthday. Well, she controls the purse-strings in the house and so I said, "Sure, go ahead and get the tickets." (she was already getting tix for some other events at our local "big" venue.

So, we get to the show last night and I find out our seats are in the front row ... center.

I used to think front row center was the best seat in the house. But when you are at a sold-out concert for a guy who you only know the words to TWO of his songs, it is frightening.

First, by turning around, I realized that with the house lights down, Mr. Black and his band really couldn't see any of the people in the audience ... except us (as well as the senior citizens sitting on each side of us).

I have been next to the stage for some rock concerts (most notably Whitesnake where I got to slap David Coverdale's hand) but all of those were in the pits with thousands of other people clammering for the stage.

Second, they throw stuff into the audience. I was at a Y&T concert in the late 1980s and I kicked my best friend in the face as I fought him for a Garfield towel that rythmn guitarist Joey Alves threw off the stage (still have it -- signed -- BTW).

But with Clint Black it was a little different. He threw several guitar picks in my direction throughout the show, but the sweet older lady next to me was collecting them because she wanted to make some sort of mosiac to remember the show. So, I made sure she got as many as she could. And when Clint got done playing the drums for a Steely Dan cover they did (yeah, it was pretty good, actually), he handed her a drum stick and threw one toward me. If it had been a Metallica show, I would have climbed over small children to get it. Instead, I ducked and the lady behind me got it. And then the lady next to me said, "Well, what am I going to do with one drumstick?"

Third, the view. When I say first row, I mean right up there. And Mr. Black is a good showman who likes to get close to the audience so he was often standing right on the edge of the stage. What that meant was that I had a lovely view of his crotch for much of the show.

Fourth, they can hear you. While the concert was sold out, the crowd was rather elderly and very sedate. Imagine an entire audience in a coma. But this is a country concert. It is a generally accepted rule that you can "whoop" at a country concert when something is particularly well done. During one very impressive blues number, I "whooped" a few times and it appeared to echo through the hall. In my defense, there were other whoopers but they were in the back of the arena in the whooping section. Tracy turned to me when that song was over and said, "Don't whoop anymore."

Point taken.

I think I'll enjoy my nosebleed seats from now on.