When Leah was a little thing, she used to sing “homagin, homagin!” over and over as we pulled up the driveway and into the garage.  I thought that as the plane taxied to the runway in Indy…  I’m home again!

David met me at the airport when we flew in after several delays, saying he had a surprise for me.  He had tickets to a concert.  I was floored, thinking “What?  David bought tickets to a concert?”

We’re not concert people.  And he’s not a ticket-buying person.  Turns out, though, that my world is still intact – they were bought by a friend’s boss and his date stood him up.  He gave the tickets to my friend, and my friend gave them to David.  Which is why David was standing there with tickets to a Michael Buble concert.  Again, something we NEVER would have gone to see.  But, we’re usually up for something different.  We decided to go – knowing full well that we’d spend most of the concert being amazed at the cheese and the crazy ladies.

And crazy ladies there were in abundance.  Screaming ladies, yelling ladies, swooning ladies.  And teens!  So many of them… screaming “I love you, Michael” at every quiet moment.  It was insane.  Oh, yeah – there was also this super man fan sitting next to on top of me.  He’d had four beers before he took his seat (the cups were stacked and he smelled).  A few songs in, he and his date got up (spilling their beer all over the floor and my foot) and started dancing (drunkenly and a bit like hippies) in the aisle.  They never did come back.

Aside from that mess and the sheer cheese of a crooner concert, we had a good time.  We laughed a lot, at the people there and at Michael himself.  He was a lot funnier (and fouler) than I thought he’d be.  He has a great voice, and his jazz stuff was really good.  His swagger, his jokes, his personality onstage – it was like he was channeling Frank Sinatra.  The worst part of the evening was the pop set – those songs sucked.  Really badly.  David and I left when he made the crowd stand up and clap with him.  I just really don’t go for that stuff.

All in all, it was a good way to spend a Friday night – doing something different.