Saturday Concert

Going backward, I was home before midnight. Cindy Lauper, somehow 71 now, sang, danced, and jammed for just under two hours with only resting for fast costume changes in what is billed as her farewell tour. She spoke often and seemed humbled and even overwhelmed by the crowd and the machinery of her concert, “I don’t do too many stadium tours.” There was a video of one costume change, in which she tried to talk to the audience while being changed and make-up being updated. And saying, “No thank you” to a plate of fruit handed to her. It was funny and also touching truth.

The Moda Center Suite 15 was our home. Joan had free tickets and parking, and we had chairs in the second row with a near-perfect distance view of the stage. It was very comfortable, but the suite ran out of water and Diet Coke. We toured the building and walked the length of the Moda Center 100-level vendor floor. There were fantastic food options with reasonable lines (some very excellent stalls were empty of customers!), but the line for the two concert T-shirt locations was wrapped around and down the walkway! We tried the club level and found limited food options, and the recommended ice cream place was closed. We surmised that many places are closed for a concert but open for game nights. The suite was wonderful.

Going further back, we arrived early in Portland with only a few mistakes. Finding the Garden Garage took a short journey, but the signs helped, and we were happy to avoid the $35 parking fee once we entered. Joan was driving, and Air Joan was soon arranged in a nearly perfect space. Next, we walked a short distance to the elevator. We were too early and later learned that had we arrived around 7, we could have walked to our suite from the garage. Instead, we took the elevator down, left the Moda Center, and spoke to a cheerful security person (again, having such a high minimum wage makes everyone helpful and smiling–think about those readers in those red states) who pointed us to Jack’s for food and drinks.

We arrived in the chaos that is Dr. Jack’s on a concert night, a location of many previous places I had eaten before a show that failed or was replaced, and soon found the bar. The mobile ordering at your table was down. Extra crazy for a busy night. Joan shared a table with a friendly couple at a four-seater; the place was already full. While Dr. Jack’s had a “Girls Just Want To Have Fun” drink, they seemed overwhelmed by the crowd. It took me twenty minutes to get through the line (just two groups ahead of me). Water for Joan, the drink of the day for me, and nachos to share. While overwhelmed, the staff was friendly and helpful, and the wait for the food was not long. My tie, Pride stripes, and red vest got many positive comments. The Lauper celebrating drink was dangerous as it had cheap vodka in it and pink but not too sugary. Delicious, but three of those would make standing difficult–you cannot taste the booze! I had one. I saw other food, and I think the menu was excellent at Dr. Jacks.

We finished just before the Moda Center opened for the show. We had been warned and had no bags. If you have a bag (including a purse), it is a thirty-minute odyssey of security. Joan had a friend who got trapped in the security line; that is how we got the timing. We arrived, with a few missteps, at Suite 15 and put our coats and chairs on the end of the row. The view was good and nearly straight onto the stage. We toured the place but decided the food at Dr. Jack’s was enough.

The show was brilliant, colorful, and ‘pretty,’ as Cindy told us she wanted it to be. I did not know Cindy Lauper’s song catalog, but she has tried many styles, and we were treated to her singing them all and even playing the guitar. I have always enjoyed her music and will have to listen to more. She started the show with a familiar song and waited for the encore to play her well-known songs. The show ended with “Girls Just Want To Have Fun,” with her opening band lead singer, Gayle, punching out the song with her.

Gayle, also the lead singer’s name, opened for the show, as I said, and her music was excellent but unknown to me. ‘F**k’ was in most of the songs, and I thought the music was good, but the words meant she was excluded from radio play. The crowd loved her ABCDEFU and sang along, knowing all the words. It was a fun song, and she had the audience yell out F**k U as a chorus. Most excellent.

Having been re-introduced to Cindy Lauper and learning new rhymes for F**K from Gayle, it was a great night. Joan drove, and Air Joan found its way to the now-empty Volvo Cave without issue. The fog had started, and the stagnant air had me coughing, but we arrived intact.

Joan waited until I turned on a light and headed home, a familiar tract. I was soon showered and in bed reading. I listened again to “Time and Tide” by Ms. Lauper before changing to sleeping background music on the Amazon Echo and slept. I dreamed of rhyming more profanities with Gayle singing along and her band blasting guitar rifts for good matching words. It’s not quite the Silver Key dreams of Lovecraft, but it’s still strangely bizarre.

Returning to the start of Saturday, I rose again and found that Air Volvo was not there–I kept forgetting. I did hear from the mothership with a video of them showing me the Volvo engine (I have seen it maybe five times) and explaining I needed to authorize another $500 to take apart the cowl; they pointed at it so I would know that it was in the video while explaining they needed to reach something called a VDD (so many jokes). Impressed that I had already paid $750 for a video (I was hoping for a repair or an estimate for that money), and I agreed by signing something at their website connected to the video. I expect to be impressed with more wonders of the modern Volvo repair process. Maybe they will have Gayle make me a song about car repairs (thinking of shouting WTF, as a perfect chorus).

Blessed with me financing multi-media Volvo repairs, the rest of my day was quiet. I spent much of my time writing the morning blog, having liberal coffee, and forgetting to do laundry. I had veggies for breakfast. The night before, I made a pumpkin pie using Mom Wild’s recipe (found on older Eagle Condensed Milk cans) (I forgot to mention it in the previous blog) and had a slice with a banana. It seemed perfect.

Aside: This is all can-based pie, but the secret is the condensed milk as it cooks to caramel. I find milk and evaporated milk make a more custard pie. This version is silky and not overly sweet. To be direct, for those who scoff (I know who you are), I will cook some pumpkin someday and try it as a replacement, but I am not doing the custard thing.

Lunch consisted of another pie-like item, a quiche I made a few days ago, which was excellent. I heated it three times (once for three minutes, then again ten minutes later for a minute, and again later when I finally remembered it), and that made it hot through. I often heat something, let it sit until almost room temperature, and heat it again. With the cold gone, the second heating makes it even in temperature and excellent. This is the best way for Italian items and think items.

I chatted with Deborah for a while, and we talked about many of the things we plan to do when I am in Michigan and when she makes her first visit to the Volvo Cave (assuming I will not buy a six-pack of cheap muscle cars for less than the cost of one Volvo replacement and have not renamed the house to Chevy/Ford Cave). After that, I dressed and started the day. I read, did dishes, paid bills, and did all the mundane tasks that accumulated in life.

I was happy to see my 401K investments rise to make up for losses in October. I update the valuation only once a month and try to ignore it most of the month. I will not try to time the market. “No, I won’t,” I think. It is a mantra as a retired person like me is a perfect victim of various investment schemes. No day trading (or drinking). No chasing ephemeral stocks that are flying up (only to tank). Again, Gayle could sing a song about that for us older fans, rhyming “No F**king Way!”

Aside: F**k could cause various scanners to react poorly to my content, meaning it remains asterisked. I do not want to be banned by various purity AI systems now attached to multiple corporate media. From what I have read, it is without recourse. Best to, quoting some from long ago, stoop to conquer.

I dressed in my new black shoes and white dress shirt and put out my gold-colored pocket watch and vest later. After some more Christmas shopping online, time approached, and I dressed, and soon, Air Joan arrived.

And that takes this story without a profane chorus full circle. Thanks for reading, and I hope you, dear reader, are inspired to look for Gayle and Cindy Lauper and think about all the rhymes.