Fleetwood Mac

I really love Fleetwood Mac. I don't really know how this happened. One day, I just loved them. I suspect my husband had something to do with this, since I certainly didn't inherit this love from my parents.

So Stevie and the gang were in town last night for the 2009 Unleashed Tour. After much debate, we finally decided that we deserved a night out and decided to get tickets. Now, recently, I discovered that Craigslist is good for a great many things. If you are looking for the engagement ring you lost in the park...Craigslist is your answer. If you are looking for a companion to share your love of Yanni...hit up Craigslist. It is a veritable ocean of opportunities. HOWEVER. If you are looking to purchase concert tickets, think twice. My precious husband had made arrangements to purchase 4th Row FLOOR tickets from a woman in Provo (45 minutes from our house.) She had given us two options...wire her money to Wal-Mart and she would email us the tickets, or come down and pick them up. After much thought, we decided that the drive was worth the peace of mind, seeing this woman and knowing that she was legitimate.

So off we went, making our way through the rush hour traffic, working out the exact strategy that would allow little old me to see the stage in the event that a garagantuan individual stood in front of me, which nearly always happens. So we arrived at the woman's house, a nice, respectable looking place. The woman who answers the door tells us that there is no one there by that name. We are puzzled. We are certain that we wrote the address correctly. Gordon picks up his phone to dial the woman's number, only to find that the iPhone has failed us. It is completely frozen. We are unable to retrieve her phone number, her texts or her emails. We are frantic. Well, Gordon was just pissed. Sorry. Uncuth language. Fast forward through about 10 minutes of fury, the iPhone miraculously unfreezes for a moment and yields Jessica M's phone number. We call her number, only to be told that she's sold our tickets 20 minutes ago. Fury and devastation ensue. And I cry. And Gordon says a lot of bad words to them.

As we drive back to Salt Lake, we convince ourselves that this was surely a fraud. There had just been too many things that weren't right. Too many suspicious occurances. As we approach our exit, the cursed iPhone rings. This time, it's another ticket broker that we had previously spoken to, offering us decent tickets for a decent price. We jump at the chance and sail right on past our exit. Things are looking up.

We arrive at our destination, pick up our tickets and politely refuse the offer to share a bottle of vodka with the ticket scalper (though it was sorely tempting, she really didn't look like she had Hepatitis.) So we parked, showed the ticket man our tickets and skipped right in to the show. But stopped for a super-sized beer immediately. Our tickets were reasonably great and the show hadn't even started yet.

As you know, I love lists. So I'm going to cut this narrative short and give you a list of my favorite parts...

1. Between songs, Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham would often talk about the songs, their history, how they came to be and where their minds were when they wrote them. Since most of their music is so emotionally complicated, it was so awesome to learn about what led them to write such classic music.

2. Stevie Nicks wears the craziest clothes. She has this amazing mixture of Boho meets the witch in Snow White with those weird leather gloves. And one hand of the gloves had full fingers, the other hand had no fingers at all. Also, she has a make-up style that is somewhat reminiscent of Gene Simmons and Beth Chapman, Dog the Bounty Hunter's wife. Paint by numbers style.

3. Mick Fleetwood seems like he could double as Santa Claus in his spare time. He is so jolly.

4. It would seem that there was a special section for elderly Fleetwood fans. And we were in it. Several times I laughed out loud at the group of six people in front of us who looked like they had taken a wrong turn on the way to the Kings Heralds concert. All six of them sat perfectly immobile, never a head bob, a clap, a small hoot or even a blink, as far as I could observe. I did detect movement on two occasions: first, when they pulled out their binoculars to peer at the stage (which was no more than 20 rows away) and second when they PLUGGED THEIR EARS. It was hysterical. I laughed so hard.

5. I really liked it when someone tapped Gordon on the shoulder and asked us to sit down. I liked it even more when Gordon told them to forget it.

A few other things that I noticed...

1. At what point did the cowboy hat become the universal head apparel for concerts? I saw people of all shapes, sizes and styles wearing straw cowboy hats cocked at very saucy angles.

2. Just because Fleetwood Mac enjoyed the height of popularity during the late '60s and '70s, this does not indicate that Crystal Gale length hair or tie-dye shirts that haven't been washed since that era are appropriate at the 2009 Unleashed Tour concert. Even the musicians agree that yes, the world is changing. So should your sandals.

3. Why in the world would anyone get so drunk before the show even started that they wouldn't remember/appreciate/be coherent for the actual event? Think it through, people.