Rock, Rock Till You Drop
I meant to post this morning from Chicago, but my borrowed computer did not take a liking to The Lipstick Chronicles and wouldn't load the site. But I'm back home with my report from the Def Leppard concert in Schaumburg, IL (just outside Chicago), as I know you're dying to hear how things went...well, Lori and Adrienne, anyway! Gates opened at Alexian Field at 5:30 on Saturday night, and by the time Jim, Kim, Molly, Allison and I got to the parking lot and shelled out $20 to stow the Explorer for a few hours, at least several thousand folks were already in line, waiting to get into the minor league ballpark. So we bided our time by looking for mullets and counting tattoos (way more tattoos than mullets), then finally made it onto the ball field to plunk ourselves down in the afternoon sun, as close to the stage as we could, despite the masses who'd beat us to it with blankets and beer. I figure we were equivalent to being in the 30th row.
The opening act dude was good, but I can't even remember his name (Randy Coleman, I think). By that time, drunken gangs of thirtysomething guys standing in their socks on picnic blankets were shouting for Def Leppard. At about 7:10, per my cell phone clock, the Leps took the stage and the sold-out stadium went nuts. My sister, Allison, and I--as well as newly acquired buddies Kelly and Kristy--pushed up a little closer to get a better vantage point to take in Joe Elliott and the boys, who did not disappoint. They looked hot and sounded great, despite Joe's gravelly voice having lost a little range since I'd last heard 'em live. For an hour and a half, they jammed, hitting all the right notes with faves like "Pour Some Sugar on Me," "Armageddon It," "Animal," "Women," "Photograph," "Rock of Ages," "Foolin'," and a couple tunes penned by other artists on their new CD of cover hits, like Badfinger's "No Matter What." But then, y'all knew I'd be blissed out, didn't you? It was awesome, baby!
The other show was going on right in front of us. Three couples who'd consumed enough beer to finance horsefeed for the Budweiser Clydesdales for a year, stumbled around, dirty danced (girls with girls, girls with guys), smoked like proverbial chimneys, took cell phone pics of each other acting stupid, shot pics of Molly, Allison, me and Kristy rocking out, then took more pics of each other after pulling up their shirts and shoving the camera toward their boobs...oh, and did I mention the stumbling? If any of them even saw one minute of Joe singing or Phil playing the guitar, I'd be genuinely shocked. I hope next time I'm at a Def Leppard concert, those bozos stay home...or take it to a strip club.
Yeah, and there will be a next time. My editor got us tickets to see Def in Chicago on September 4, during Loopfest, right on the tail-end of Bouchercon. So if you're at the Sheraton downtown and see me grinning all of Labor Day weekend, you'll know why.
Sorry, Dusty, but Def Leppard rules!
Hysterically and Euphorically Yours,
Susan (or maybe I should have a better rock chick name, like Misty or Tawny...hmmm!)