I actually thought we'd be the youngest ones there - but we weren't! (We were close to being the youngest ones there, of course. But we weren't.) It was a lot of fun to yell out "we weren't even born yet!" when Mr. Diamond would introduce a song he wrote/performed back in 1960-something.
Anyway, since The Jazz Singer's in high demand we could only afford the bleacher seats. Bleacher seats (1) have no back, and (2) have no defined sides so Big V was all don't get all weird if you accidently touch someone. And I was all what are you even talking about? It's not going to be that bad...
|That's Big V's funky assailant knee on the right. It tried to kill him.|
Bleacher seats @NeilDiamond! My knees are currently embedded in some guy's back fat. #summerfest
.... but it was never shown on the jumbo screens flashing all the sweet tweets. Suck ups.
|Neil is going to come on stage rriiiiight there.|
Eventually, though, Neil came out and everyone stood and cheered with wild abandon! Which is mostly just a lot of excitement about seeing a living legend helped along by the 4 beers you downed waiting for the show to start.
Except Green Shirt Guy. Green shirt guy did not stand. Ever. Instead, Green Shirt Guy took that opportunity to push further back in his seat and get comfy. Meanwhile I was standing as far back as humanly possible. (Note how far back my footsies are compared to the two next to me. And I ain't got dainty feet, you know what I'm sayin'?) There is now a permanent etching of the bleacher in the back of my calves. While we were all standing and clapping and singing Sweet Caroline at the top of our lungs - bah, bah, bahh! - Green Shirt Guy read up on B-1 Bomber Missions (I peaked over his noggin to his brightly lit iPhone screen) and gruffly reminded the patron to his direct right that you're not allowed to videotape the performance. He was a gem.
Overall, it was a good night, back sweat trickling on my knee caps and all. We did decide that from now on we're splurging for seats with clearly defined backs and sides. Which is why I purchased pavilion seats to see Demi Lovato at Ravinia. Because I'm a person who needs my unintruded personal space.
Also, am I the only one who confuses a young Neil Diamond with David Copperfield?
|Cracklin Rosie... or disappearing rosie?|
I saw Neil Diamond, with his black guitar and his sexy voice ... and I have Green Shirt Guy's back sweat to prove it.