4/23/2011 - where the chick just stands there and sings stuff. . .

Concerts are not usually my thing.  I've been to a handful of them, and while I always have fun during, the hassle of getting there, the massive crowds, and the interminable amount of time spent waiting for the show to begin has successfully deterred me from attending more.  But tonight, on kind of a whim, Sam and I are going to see Linda Eder, a Broadway veteran probably best known for her role as Lucy the prostitute in Jekyll and Hyde.

Thanks to my dictatorial seizure of radio control when I ride shotgun in Sam's car, he has been exposed to enough of Linda Eder's voice on XM Radio's Broadway channel to consistently mistake her for Barbra Streisand, and can even hum a few bars of "Someone Like You" if coerced.  Despite this, I was surprised when Sam said that he was looking forward to the concert tonight, even after I calibrated his expectations accordingly--no drum machines, no pyrotechnics, and likely no back-up dancers.

"Wow, how PBS of us," he said, "you know, those concerts they show where the chick just stands there and sings stuff."

Which is really just how I like my concerts, actually.  Though I had a great time last year at Lady Gaga's spectacle of a Monster's Ball, I am not really a dance diva at heart.  As embarrassing as this is to admit, I went to my very first concert in high school, when my mom and I (yes, you read that right) went to see Jewel at an old theater in Berkeley.  I was obsessed about her at the time, basically put her Pieces of You CD on endless repeat, learned how to play "You Were Meant for Me" on the guitar.  She was a great, if not somnolent, performer, and I think it kind of set me down this path where I feel most comfortable at great but somnolent performances.

I, of course, have my own expectations of the concert tonight.  I can leave completely satisfied if she just belted out a couple of tunes (I have a soft spot for belters; I blame Idina Menzel), maybe my favorite song from Jekyll and Hyde.

Really, though, I just want Sam and I to have some time to ourselves, remind ourselves that we are a couple, not just two people who exist together merely to take care of a neurotic and needy puppy.  Sometimes, we forget; often, we don't have time to remember.  What better chance to think about it than a night of ballads, vibrato, and Broadway music?  I'm sure Sam can't think of one; I certainly can't!