Melissa called every day for a month, but there weren't any tickets available... until about 3 hours before the show, there was some rushing, an argument with a cab driver and a frantic scramble for the box office, but she was ultimately successful. I maya have started dancing in my cubicle when I heard the news, but since there aren't any witnesses, that can't be confirmed.
In the same spirit of boldness adventuring, we found a new restaurant on the Upper West Side for dinner - Calle Ocho, really good Cuban food, I highly recommend it - and the promptly made our way over to the venue.
A shiny elevator operated by a nice man in a maroon uniform took us to the fifth floor of the Time Warner Center. I was rendered speechless when we walked into the room.
Floor to ceiling windows overlooked Columbus Circle with a view straight down Central Park South. The stage was a small raised platform in front of the wall of windows. Oh, and then we were taken to our seats in the THIRD ROW, and that's when I squeeked with joy and amazement and almost passed out. We were able to sneek the above picture before the camera-nazi patroller scolded us and informed us of the no-picture rule.
He's a great live performer and it every minute was spine-tingling. And since this was concert #3 in my marathon week of live music, I have a solid fram of reference.
The artist, himself:
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