…you need a little help from your sis. Last weekend I went up to the Big Apple to help Deb pack some of her things since she’s moving to the ‘burbs. She didn’t really need to give me an incentive to come help her, but the SWEET U2 tickets that she had just lying around didn’t hurt. We had decent seats, I mean they weren’t second row or general admission, but neither were they so far back that the band members were the size of peanuts when you looked down. They were decent. I had a BLAST of course, as anyone who knows me, knows that I *almost* idolize them. I said almost! Anyway, I went with Deb and she was also the happy owner of 4 sets of tickets so that she ended up going to 4 different shows.
I guess she can make it on her own.
I have to say, though, that she had some FANTASTIC seats, as they weren’t seats at all. She got to go on Tuesday night as General Admission which, of course, is the Floor. The Floor, ladies and gentlemen, is the place where all your concert-dreams come true. The Floor is where you can get there early and get in line to get a good place in the arena and not just depend on your place in the queue at Ticketmaster for a good seat. The Floor is where you could maybe, quite possibly, on the off chance, have Bono choose YOU out of the masses to go up on stage with him and…dance. Dance with your head on his shoulder (have to admit, a little weird) and sway to With or Without You. ah, the Floor. She said it felt like it was a intimate concert in some small venue and that Bono was singing directly to her crowd. She said that it was everything she thought it would be. And she’ll never go back.
sigh.
My other sister and I are going to the Atlanta show in November. In the nose bleeds. Section 300 something. Sigh, again. Still, with all the energy output from a crowd screaming and singing at the top of their lungs, 20,000 strong, it will still be an eventful evening. It always is.
These pics are some that Deb took with her camera phone, as she was about 3 ft away from the outer ring of the stage. Cheers, Deb.
