I am once again suspending the Sesame Street post to discuss last night’s Trans-Siberian Orchestra show, not just to honor the request of the delightfully brilliant Maggie May but also to purge the experience from me while it is still fresh. I have to admit, when the
Fabus (im linking them in case i need to for nablopomo) first mentioned that we should go to this concert, all I knew about the group was that they had some funky Christmas song that I would recognize if I heard it and the music also had a light show. Plus, my boss Lonnie Manko had expressed interest in going so we got her tickets for Boss’s Day. Needless to say, I immediately agreed to go a) because the Fabus can pretty much anything fun b) if Lonnie Manko wanted to go then it would probably be good because she has good taste and c) Im all about pretty sparkly lights. I meant to google the group before we went but of course time got away from me and I was no more prepared than I’d been the day we bought the tickets.
Last night, before the show, we took a risk on a local seafood restaurant that I’d remembered being good ten years ago but is currently suffering from rumors that it’s gone around the bend. We were pleasantly surprised to find this not to be the case at all! Despite having to face the unfortunate reality that tonic is not an acceptable substitute for diet soda which resulted in me having to embarrass myself by asking my server to top my vodka and tonic off with sprite (yeah, im twelve years old), the risk paid off and we all had high hopes for the evening. We had asked for the best available seats and had paid extra money for them. Apparently, by the time we bought our tickets, 42 bucks gets you into a crowded row of folding chairs with no pads. Our tickets were in Row D on the floor. We knew we did not get fourth row seats but we at least thought this would mean we were in the fourth row of our section. Not so much. It appears that the folks who organize the logistics of seating at our venue do not believe in breaks between sections because we seemed to be behind another entire alphabet of rows.
Now friends, you may know me here on the blog to be kind of weak and self indulgent but deep in my heart, I am a survivor. I was undaunted by the prospect of being crammed into this small space on a butt numbing folding chair for the show. (Admittedly, I was between Madame Fabu and Gill, who was on the end, which made my experience a bit more pleasant than say, Senor. Fabu’s.)(And I did look longingly at the stadium seating until Madame assured me that they had unpadded chairs as well.) I was prepared to enjoy the spectacle. We called Lonnie Manko on the cell and found her located in the stadium seats much much closer to the stage. I deliberately did not ask about her seat padding just in case Madame was lying to make me feel better. I realize Ive hit five hundred words but I still am deliberately not going to begin the show until my gentle readers less familiar with the Trans-Siberian Orchestra experience have an opportunity to go here and learn about what the show was meant to be. I want you to have that image firm in your mind when you come back tomorrow to hear about the reality of it.
Trans-Siberian Orchestra (part one)