Tickled Pink

Let's talk about Pink, shan't we?

That's P!nk, by the way. We saw P!ink in concern last week when she was in Chicago. I purchased two tickets in an effort to surprise the wife. I thought it would be fun.

Little did I know it would be my favorite concert of all time.

OF,ALL.TIME.PEOPLE!

I've been to at least 150 concerts during my tenure on the planet. So, saying this was the best one yet is saying something mighty impressive. I'm sorry, Madonna and Gaga. You are fabulous. But, this...

...THIS was something to write home about.

Back in the day, performers sang and had live bands. No computerized tracks, no machines. It was genuine, raw, imperfect. Over the years, the concert scene has changed. Tracks blast from the speakers, bands are almost relegated to being an afterthought. It was perfection, sterilized in a way. The headliner sings but only partially. The rest is recorded. So, they are singing with themselves.

Sometimes they are not singing at all.

But, P!nk did it the old school way. P!nk sang. And, she sang while she was upside down on a trapeze, while flying over the crowd, while swaying from a stage prop, while punching an oversized punching bag Eminem. Her band was amazing. She had actual back up singers. She forgot words and made fun of herself. Best of all, she was enjoying herself. Instead of being "just" a spectacle, she was a singing spectacle. Genuine. Humorous. Engaging. Grateful.

Grateful and Madonna are not two words I would put together in the same sentence. Her majesty rises above of, towers over her minions. She is not of us.

P!nk is a minion, right along with us. She is us.

Gaga has an amazing voice. No one can touch her voice when it comes to live singing. It's jaw-droppingly beautiful, powerful, soulful. Her Monster Ball tour was probably my second favorite concert tour of all time (Madonna's Blond Ambition Tour sits at Number Three). But, somehow P!nk went above and beyond Mother Monster. I can't put words on it but it's true.

I didn't think that it was possible that P!nk would come close to touching Madonna or Gaga-level, but there I was at the United Center, jaw dropped open (I'm not kidding), sitting on the edge of my seat as P!nk zipped around high above the crowd, singing. How one can do a trapeze act and sing so well is beyond me.

My words do nothing to paint a picture of how fabulous the concert was. I can't do it justice in print. The only thing I can do it tell you to trust me and to suggest you blast her new album.

That and ask you if you've seen my keys. I lost my keys sometime during the festivities. The wife is not amused. Thank god she loved the concert.

If you have the chance to see P!nk, go. If you're feeling old, wear ear plugs. You won't be the oldest one there. You won't be the youngest. The age range of the people there is staggering. You'll be perfect.

When P!nk says you're perfect to her, she means it. We are her and she is us. We're all perfect, just as we our. That's a message Gaga sends, too... after all, her followers are Little Monsters.  Somehow, P!nk transcended that on this evening. Somehow, she seemed to have more fun while asserting we're all just fine the way we our. Yes, we were born this way but that's so cerebral to me. 

I'm sorry, Gaga. I  feel like I'm cheating on you.

I will go to another P!nk concert if afforded the chance. I'll have to see if MJagger would like to go. I know she and I will always have Madonna and Gaga but perhaps she'd like to take a gander at this performer.....

Best concert ever. Perfect.

...well, if only I could find my car keys. THAT would be perfect. Pretty, pretty please.
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