I'm convinced that balcony seats are perfect for watching a concert. I'm a short person, so the tilt added to whatever tier-ing the architect constructed gives me more of a chance to avoid a big head dead center in my view.
Saturday night, there was a larger fellow just to the left, but otherwise it was smooth sailing all the way down to Bonnie Raitt and her friends. We were asked to refrain from photography, but the bows at the end felt like fair game. The set changed colors with the music, and those six white lights were sometimes filled with red or yellow squares of blinking neon. It was minimal and it was perfect. She didn't need anything else.
Howie from High School turned me on to her, either senior year or when we were back for our first vacations from college. I felt quite hip when the clerk at the record store admired my taste. I've seen her in concert over the years, and she never seems to age. She's gracious with her thank you's - to the audience, to her support staff (the lighting guy got a huge round of applause), to the other musicians on stage, to those shouting out tunes they wanted to hear (Oh, yeah, that's a good one.)
She plays a new instrument with every song. She sang us new songs and old songs and did a few more as an encore. They bowed, I took a picture, and the lights went up.
We walked back to our cars and hugged good night. And it was a good night.
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