Drunk Old People Can't Mar the Barry Manilow Experience
Or…The Dragon had a fabulous time at the Music and Passion show in Vegas

The reason I went to Las Vegas for five days was to attend an equipment tradeshow as the editor of a construction magazine. Now, consider for a moment that group of people. No one in that group is going to admit to being interested in attending a Barry Manilow concert*. EXCEPT ME! I was stoked beyond words.

I've been a Barry Manilow fan for…oh…32 years? And that's kinda bizarre when you consider I'm 37. He he he. I have a Barry Manilow highballer; a Barry Manilow corkscrew; a Barry Manilow hat; of course the music on cassette, CD and vinyl; Music and Passionfruit lip balm for pity's sake…I'm mildly obsessed. One of my girlfriends got me the Barry Manilow bobble-head doll (which is actually a little evil-looking so I keep it in its box where it can't hurt anyone). He has inspired me to market and promote on days when I felt like curling up in the fetal position and telling the world to go screw itself rather than explain to one more old person what on earth "fantasy" is and why on earth Choices Meant for Gods is NOT the same as Harry Potter. There was no way I was going to Vegas and NOT going to see the man.

I had a ticket for Row G, Seat 10. That, my friends, translated to the 7th row, stage left, in line with Barry's eyes every time he sat down at the piano. FABULOUS! You couldn't ask for a better seat.

Well…you couldn't ask for a better seat unless maybe the seat wasn't directly in front of a party of drunk girls who enjoyed saying the F word really loudly. That was bizarre. I think the poor elderly couple to my immediate left was about to collapse in some sort of coronary event shortly after the "ladies" behind us sat down. The good news is that the music gets pretty loud in a concert hall and you can't hear the people behind you so much. Well…you can't hear them unless the person somewhere behind you is an obnoxious old man screaming "sit down" at the top of his lungs. That was also bizarre. He was so loud and obnoxious that the lady in front of me turned around looking confused and bewildered at one point during the opening song when everyone was standing. I shrugged and continued clapping like a trained monkey because I was just so happy to be there.

Now! Enough of the crazy people!

Everything Barry played was great. Holy cow. I've been to several of his shows over the years and I'm just constantly amazed by how that man can shake it. How old is he now? Depending on whether you believe he was born in 1943 or 1946, he's in his early 60s. (Either way, I share his birth date of June 17!) Yet he's up there dancing around and belting out these tunes and running (literally running) around the piano trading off playing with three other keyboardists onstage as if he was a spry young 20-year-old. Geez Louise. I wanna move like that when I'm in my early 60s.

At one point during the show, some geek in the front row LEFT to get alcohol, and Barry, who had just started up New York City Rhythm, says into the microphone, "Wait! I get better!", and then continues singing. I thought I would die laughing. The geek didn't seem to notice. Rar.

At another point in the show, when he sang Moonlight Serenade, Barry went over to the VIP section and held out his hand to one of the ladies in the front row there…and asked her to dance. Hello! He opened this little gate that separated the front row from the stage and led her onto the stage, pulled her into his arms and danced with her. Lucky lady! He asked her her name. "Jane." (I was so proud of her for getting that out.) Then he asked a complex question. He asked why she had come to Vegas. I'm sure most of us in the audience were telepathically sending her the answer, "to see you to see you to see you to see you to see you," because the poor lady, standing there in Barry's arms, hesitated, gulped, and said, so sweetly, "I'm here to see you." Good girl, Jane. We applaud you. And we're all green with envy. Now, Barry had to let her go, right? So he hands her off to a security guy who had snuck up out of nowhere. And thank goodness, too! The poor thing. She sort of did this weak-kneed stutter-step toward her seat, which, bless her heart, is better than I would have done. I probably would have collapsed in the security guard's arms. "You'll have to carry me…"

So he played Weekend in New England, Looks Like We Made It (which actually made me tear up just a bit, for some reason), I Made it Through the Rain (which also made me tear up, for obvious reasons), Copa Cabana, American Bandstand, Boogie Woogie Blues, Can't Take my Eyes off of You, When They Dance (and let me just say that I LOVE his Mayflower album), Daybreak, Can't Smile Without You, I am Your Child, and, the killer, Mandy. Ugh. There were more, but, geez. Every time a new song started up, I was thrilled that I was going to hear it. It was just a fantastic show. I'm stunned by how much energy he can pack into the performance.

Side note: I thought I was going to make it through Mandy without sobbing like an idiot this time. They play a video on a huge curtain-like screen in front of the stage to introduce the song; it's Clive Davis being interviewed about Barry and the new #1 hit song. And then Barry starts playing it on this white grand, right? You've all seen it on TV. Well, the video clip on the curtain-like screen goes all the way through the first verse and I'm holding it together really really well. I figure I don't need my little tissue after all. I've become immune to this version of the song. And then of course the curtain goes up because Barry is behind it (and we all knew this) playing a white grand piano and singing along and the clip fades out so it's just him and I weep like a fool. Sigh. I don't understand what it is. I wonder if something traumatic happened when I was 5 and that song was playing in the background…and I've repressed it…I'll have to check with my parents.

Summation: I highly recommend Barry Manilow's Music and Passion show in Vegas. Get thee to the Hilton and see the show if at all possible. It's worth every penny. Even if you end up in front of a party of drunk girls or obnoxious old men who want everyone to sit down. Those folks are easily ignored when the fabulous Barry Manilow takes the stage (or maybe I'm just used to ignoring obnoxious things because I was married for 14 years). His band is dead-on. His backup singers are full of energy and spunk. His stage is magnificent. His voice is incredible (as always). His show is well-balanced with moments for him to slow down and connect with the audience (and I'm sure everyone knows he has a stellar sense of humor) and then the moments for the show to race into a frenzy when everyone is up "dancing in the streets". It's worth flying out to Vegas just to see the man...

*footnote: I have discovered that many people from surprising backgrounds are closet Barry fans. When in college, I had a greatest hits album of his that I popped into my cassette player/boombox one day, much to my roommate's chagrin (No, not you, Kim, this was my freshman year) and heard much complaining about it for about one or two songs. Then someone walking by the room (first floor; open door) peeked in to say something along the lines of, "omigosh, is that Barry Manilow? I love this song." Pretty soon, someone else stopped with something akin to, "omigosh, I used to love this song! Who is this?" The comments went on for the whole album. The roommate even had a few she liked! So, it has been my contention, since college, that EVERYONE is a closet Barry Manilow fan, even if he or she doesn't realize it. Folks just have to be reminded of it from time to time.

"Some days, I just want the dragon to win."
Tags: Barry Manilow, Vegas, Music and Passion, closet Barry Manilow fan, Clive Davis, Choices Meant for Gods, Harry Potter

Lionel Richie Rocked Terex's House
Or...The Dragon did this fun thing while in Vegas

Yesterday, I promised I'd tell you of some of the fun stuff I did in Vegas. It wasn't all work, you know. The trade show closed each evening and the attendees were kicked out. Those of us in the press, though, were invited to various booths to continue working, but the "events" were usually geared toward retaining our attention, if you know what I mean. (read: they weren't supposed to be boring)

An equipment company called Terex rented a ballroom at The Mirage, hired a cover band, set up four large open bars (there could have been more, if you catch my drift), set up several food stations, hired some dancers, bought a ton of silly hats and plastic bling for guests to wear...

Oh, yeah...they also booked Lionel Richie to play for us. It was fabulous. He played Brick House. I boogied like a freak. It was as if I'd been transported back to age 12.

I have to hand it to Lionel; the guy played to the audience very very well. I mean, he's in a room full of construction workers (and some of their wives), so not a lot of them are wanting to hear Three Times a Lady, Truly and Ballerina Girl, but these are really big hits for him. So he played those, but he played abbreviated versions of them in a medley that the ladies went nuts for and the men tolerated very nicely. I was impressed. And he jazzed up Dancin' on the Ceiling and really played up the Commodore tunes that the audience was begging to hear. It was a great performance. When he got to Brick House toward the end of the set, that crowd was in a frenzy.

Lionel Richie, I tip my hardhat to you.

I'm still drafting an appropriately professional-sounding thank-you note to Ronald... ;)

Tomorrow: I'll describe in great detail the Barry Manilow concert! Yow!!

"Some days, I just want the dragon to win."
Tags: Lionel Richie, Terex, Mirage

Catching Up
Or...The Dragon is itching to blog again

Traveling to a major U.S. city shouldn't take you out of communication with the rest of the world. SURPRISE! Staying at a dump like the Cay Club Condominiums in Las Vegas, Nev., apparently, will. I was less than impressed with the facility. It's supposedly changing its name to Desert Tide so watch out for that name, too, when doing your long-term accommodation planning for Vegas. (It's across the street from The Rio and next door to the place that had the Ricin problem a couple weeks ago. No, I'm not kidding.)

The main beef I had was the absence of wireless Internet, which my boss told me the place boasted on its Web site. (I read it after connecting from a travel site, so I can't be sure that I was on the actual "hotel" site, thus I can't claim false advertising here.) Anyway, when I couldn't log on Wednesday morning, I wished to call the front desk. Lo and behold, there wasn't a phone in the living room. Fine, I can get up from the desk and look in the kitchen. I can look in the dinette area. I can look in the bedroom. Uhhhh...there was no phone in the condo because my co-workers had no phones in their rooms either. So I used my cell to call the front desk to learn that they don't have wireless Internet. When the bizarre little cord that I assume served as the wire connection failed, I gave up.

The sad thing is, once we were on the convention floors (yes, plural; the convention was huge with more than 142,000 in attendance on Friday), I didn't have time to use the computers in the press room for blogging. So ya'll didn't get the daily updates. I apologize.

The convention was exhausting, I must say. I hit the ground running Tuesday with appointments to visit and interview a couple folks before the show closed. Same with Wednesday and Thursday. Friday was all about running around; we didn't have any specific/structured appointments. It was just a Chinese firedrill of visiting booths and finding people we needed to see. Same with Saturday morning. We had a booth of our own for the express purpose of distributing magazines. We spent a total of one hour there (if that) during the course of the five days. The cool thing is the posters of a couple of our front covers will arrive here at my house today and I can hang them in my den. How cool will that be?

I got home Sunday just before midnight, spent an hour in the Ft. Lauderdale airport wishing my luggage would arrive, wishing the shuttle would pick me up, wishing I could get to my car, and wishing I could get out of the Park-n-Save lot. Sigh. Then I spent some time flitting about Ft. Lauderdale wishing I could find I-75. I think I violated the Florida Turnpike Toll Authority at one point because there was no one in the little booth (oops). The readout on the register said "closed" in its ominous green digital print...and the gate was up so I could pass...but as I drove through, slowly, looking for a basket to put my 50 cents in, I realized I saw a red light. Do you know the sinking feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you realize you've probably just done something stupid? Yeah. There it was. But I was so tired that I decided I cared not-a-lot. I'll probably care when I get some ridiculous fine in the mail from Broward County. (That is Broward County over there, isn't it?) Anyway, I'll send them 50 cents and a scathing letter about confusing exhausted travelers. (And then I'll end up in jail, I'm sure, while some drug-runner shoots a cop and ends up free and fat in Canada. Sigh.)

Where was I? Oh, yes. So I got home around 3 a.m. (It stuns me how people lose all concept of driving ability when they run into fog.) I woke up around 11 a.m. and thought, I should blog. Instead, I sneezed blood and went back to sleep. Yes, something's wrong with me. I can't leave the state ever again. :) Leaving the state causes me to collapse in something akin to near-death. I think I'm allergic to air that isn't laced with sea-salt. I need humidity to survive. It's quite reptilian. I managed to get out of bed and go to the grocery store late in the day because, you know, there was no food here. Now I've eaten some of that food for breakfast and I'm blogging as if I'm going to return to normal. How's that for a quick recovery? I like it.

So if you're tuning back in after the week of downtime, thanks for returning. We're back in business.

Today, we have an oh-so-appropriate Word of the Day to make me smile. We also have an excerpt (above) from Choices Meant for Gods for those of you participating in Author Island's St. Patty's Day chat. You'll find the answer to the trivia question posted during the chat in the excerpt. Yay!

We also have the ongoing relaxation contest. You can win a spa package from Arcana's bathing rooms (also from Choices Meant for Gods) if you comment here that you're an Author Island fan (and who isn't?). That's going through April 15, a day when we ALL NEED relaxation. You can enter every day, so comment often.

What else? I'll do individual posts tomorrow about the fun stuff I did in Vegas. There were a couple concerts, you know...

"Some days, I just want the dragon to win."
Tags: Choices Meant for Gods, Author Island

Gettin' Outta Dodge
Or…The Dragon travels to Las Vegas today

I hope to remain Ricin-free while there.

I'm taking everything with me that I need to keep up with the daily interactive Word of the Day and Inspirational Quote of the Day for Writers. I think I've got a Grammar Guide in here, too. The idea is to keep the blog from falling into desuetude while I'm away. One of the joys of the World Wide Web…it's everywhere. And there's a grammatically incorrect structure for you. Enjoy.

In the meantime, there's a contest running at http://www.authorisland.com/ where you can win a spa package from Arcana's bathing rooms (Arcana, of course, is the estate in my fantasy novel Choices Meant for Gods). Just let me know here at The Dragon that you're an island visitor and we'll get you entered in the contest. Deadline: April 15 (ooh, ominous). And you can enter every day, if you like. If you want to do that, I'd suggest making this blog a "favorite" on Technorati so your life is easier. Just click and get flung over here kind of action… The green Technorati widget at the bottom of the blog makes that easy for ya.

Criminy. 3:30 is waaaay too early to be typing HTML code. Have a great week!
"Some days, I just want the dragon to win."
Tags: Las Vegas, Choices Meant for Gods, author island, fantasy novel, technorati, dragon