GAGA FOR GAGA???????

As those of you who follow me on TWITTER know last night I took Lucy to the Lady Gaga Concert Monster Ball.

Not sure on the scale of good mother choices where it falls but it’s something she was dying to do.  So two good seats for the concert, with me as her companion was one of her Christmas gifts.
It may not seem like a big deal – mom and daughter going to a concert – albeit one with all sorts of simulated sex scenes, blessedly everything was so odd I think much of it flew right over her head;  but historically we are not a concert going family.

Glenn hates all music. I know that is a rather harsh statement, but if he never heard any again it would not change his life one bit; in fact it might make him happy.

I am not nor have I ever been (even in my youth) much of a concert fan.  I never followed bands, smoked dope or did any of things that made concert-going fun. I hate crowds, unless they are in interesting countries and I have always hated loud noise. Reaching the half-century mark has only increased these feelings.

The concerts I like tend to be soft and mellow. When I was fifteen I was going to Paul Williams concerts. I like Leonard Cohen in concert; I like anything at The Carlyle. But you can’t really consider Steve Tyrell or Elaine Stritch a concert. Let’s put it this way, any concert I attend I am usually the youngest in the room by decades, even today.  Though on my iPod I have been known to skate on the edge.

Because of this aversion to all things arena, I have taken my girls to very few concerts in their lives.

When Taylor was four I took her to see Barney Live at Radio City Music Hall.

Now you may say that is not much of a deal, but take yourselves back to when the purple dinosaur was a major star, there was a time before he discovered his inner Lindsey Lohan Barney was one of the biggest draws in the country.  And the first year he performed live getting tickets to see him was as difficult as scoring front row center to the Beatles if they actually were all alive and got together. People were paying tens of thousands of dollars.  We were living in LA at the time and Mike Ovitz before he fell, not dissimilar to Barney, (Barney had better cushioning) was trying to score tickets for his kids. Of course he did. But I heard it wasn’t easy for him though I find that hard to believe  - we got tickets too.

Our friend Bruce Roberts got us three for free  and we flew to New York so Taylor and I could sing I LOVE YOU along with the purple man himself. It was a memorable  event.

And then when she was six; like the rest of the world we went through the five-second career of The Spice Girls.  It was the year of all things Spice Girls and my divorce, which meant I was feeling really guilty so anything remotely Spicy was delivered to her on a platter.

We went to the concerts. Yes concerts.  I took her, her father took her,  she saw them perform in three states.  She kept saying “they’re so good.” I predicated their demise, forget the fact I was in demise state of mind; in terms of their talent the writing was clearly on the wall.

But she loved them and I sat through them because I love her and I was ripping up her life at that moment and what are three Spice Girls concerts in one’s life. Well, to be fair I only had to sit through two. And I knew like all these phases this too would end.

I do remember being  mad at her about something over the course of spicy summer and hurling her Posh Spice doll into the bushes at our house in the country. She was wailing like you can’t believe, and then of course I felt horrible and went crawling through the dirt to retrieve poor Posh.

Sometimes now when I look at her in the magazines with that smirky, snarky look she has I think David Beckham must often have the same impulse – just hurl her into the bushes.

But they fell and she went to that place that all kids do when they are so over something, they never want to be reminded that they liked them. Sort of like any relationship that is over. Except Taylor is still a card-carrying member of the Barney Fan Club.

Many years passed before I took her to another concert. But during the stones BIG BANG tour I decided she should see a real rock and roll band and she should probably see the originals and god only knows how long they would all be standing. So I spent a ridiculous sum of money and I don’t even like the Stones that much, since they don’t fall into the Burt Bacharach – Hal David school.  But I bought these tickets and hauled her off to what was going to be the greatest concert experience of her life. Or so I told her as I don’t think I thought that myself.

But If I was going to spend that much it better be good. I figured I had decades of unspent concert funds stacked up I could afford blowing a lot on one night.

So off we went to Madison Square Garden, crowds, and drunks and stoners only they were all over fifty for the most part.  Not a pretty sight.

But when I do this I put on my we are going to have the times of our lives persona and I’m not quiet about it. I jabber about in the cab on the way; “ This is going to be so great; we are going to have so much fun.”

Then as we are walking in,  “How cool is this, wow, look at all the people, these guys are well, history, you are going to witness history.”

Then once we are in our seats every four minutes, I check in “Having fun? How fun is this? Is this the most fun we have ever had?”  The thing is I’m not buying into any of it,  and neither are the girls.

Half way through the Stones – which was fine to see Mick as he is the only one at this point who is not phoning it in, she turned to me and said, “It’s loud and smokey and everyone is really old.”

DOES THAT MEAN WE ARE NOT HAVING FUN?????

“Do you know what I spent on these tickets? This is history. This is great. If we leave now you’ve seen JUMPIN JACK FLASH and we will get a cab before the crowds all pile out of here.”

And we left halfway through the Stones.

Now that she is older, in college and into music she can’t quite believe that she made me leave the BIG BANG concert before it was over. This will probably be the most embarrassing thing I’ve divulged about her in the blog.

But I was secretly thrilled, so she thought they were loud and crowded and noisy too. They were,  all concerts are,  that is why I don’t go to them.

That was the last concert we went to together.

Oh I forgot there is a concert I like, in Delhi every February there is a Sufi Music Night at Humayun’s’s Tomb, which is a World Heritage sight almost as pretty as the Taj Mahal. You sit outside under the stars on silk cushions and listen to Sufi Music.

That is a swell concert. Very peaceful.

And people sit; I mean the other thing about these concerts is you pay a lot of money for seats, which in my book means you are supposed to sit, which is what I want to do especially if I have to endure  that ridiculous invention known as the starting act.  But no, everyone stands, so you pay for seats and are forced to stand. I want to yell; if we all sit down we can all see.

So that brings me to last night and Lucy and Lady Gaga.

Much like Taylor and Barney, the only concert I have taken Lucy to is The Wiggles.  I’m either the oldest person in the room or the youngest I guess. But when Lucy was three we went to The Wiggles, as Barney was then history.

This Gaga thing has really been building, it is similar to Taylor and The Spice Girls;  it’s her transition performance crush.

The only difference being The Spice Girls were meant for kids and GAGA is sort of meant for Drag Queens and those who love them.  And I actually preferred The Spice Girls’ music.

Can you imagine I said that? It’s really POKER FACE, you can’t go anywhere and not hear it, from LA to Saigon –  PPPPPPPPOOOOKER  FACE.

And at my gym every teacher has it on their Playlist. I have probably done a thousand push-ups to that song, and I don’t like it.

But I love Lucy so like the Big Bang I spent the big bucks and bought her tickets.

I wasn’t going to originally, but she wanted it so and then Taylor went in Boston so it made it really hard to say no as every time the subject of Lady Gaga would come up Lucy would get teary and bring up the fact Taylor went and she doesn’t even like Lady Gaga that much.

So last night was the night. She was on the edge of everything all day in anticipation.  I always find this a sure fire way to end up disappointed.

She had her Lady Gaga T-shirt, her silver jacket, her jeggings, her sliver boots; she looked like Patricia Fields had dressed her.

I decked out in sequins a good choice as after nipple rings, wings and mini mouse hair bows, sequins seemed to be the outfit of choice.

From five on she kept asking me when we were leaving. The concert starts at seven-thirty, there will be two warm up bands, we don’t get drunk what will we do until nine-thirty when she comes on?  “We might miss something” she said.

“Trust me we won’t.”

The best I would do it get there on time for the endless warm up acts and we did.
It was a lot I must say, it harkens back to the seventies and The Village People  audience wise, it’s a mixture of that and Cyndi Lauper, that’s it – It’s like Hedwig The Angry Inch meets Cyndi Lauper, everyone just wants to have fun. But in terms of ten-year-old entertainment, High School Musical is a far better choice. I think the whole thing scared her a little.

We bought light up bracelets and I started in my  “Aren’t we having fun?” routine. I bought a frozen margarita for me, but I only got a sip as the guy next to me kicked it over as soon as I put it down.

We sat through the opening ACTS…endless.
Some guy in back of me said she wasn’t coming on until ten. I had heard she is notoriously late. I started getting nervous and  missed my margarita.

So we had time to shop, and since all last night’s proceeds went to Haiti, there was no reason not to. Lucy got a  Gaga iPod cover, two bottles of water and some old popcorn that gave us both a stomachache.

I think at a certain point she realized the world of concerts might not be all she thought.  Perhaps the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Perhaps, we could leave early and get a cab before the crowds. But I was Tweeting up a storm and kept asking her how much fun we were having.
And then finally her Gaga ness came on and well, she sang. Lucy screamed but not nearly as loud as the guys sitting next to me.

I don’t think she was prepared for the level of frenzy and it sort of threw her off her game; I stopped asking if she was having fun. I knew the answer.

She did in the beginning – songs are different than concerts and concerts require a certain amount of energy and substances to get through – at least those do and since that was not part of the experience for us, I think a lot was lost in translation.

I had zero expectations, less than zero. I was just being a good mom, or so I thought until she – Lady Gaga started simulating jerking off on stage.  Blessedly I was not the only mom who had brought her kids to this so I didn’t feel like a totally reckless parent. And I don’t think Lucy knows what the motions is, so I was safe.

We actually met a mom in the ladies room who brought her Gaga loving two year old.

So she sang and danced sort of, she’s not much of a dancer and she doesn’t have Madonna’s body, but she is clearly trying to channel some Madonna thing, I’m not a music critic so I can’t contrast and compare, only complain.

It was loud – god was it loud.

Lucy turned to me at one point after the popcorn had given her a stomachache and looked miserable. I had a moment, a Big Bang moment,  I thought I’ve spent all this money, I’m stuffed into skin tight jeans, a sequin tank and snakeskin boots dancing to a song I hate,  so you’re going to have fun.

I didn’t have to say it as she knows my looks. So she tried, but then she gave up and sat down.

“It’s loud Mommy, and crowded and I can’t stand anymore.”

You have to understand she has been gearing up for this for months. I felt badly she wasn’t having more fun. There was little I could do. I didn’t want to be there to begin with.

But she was so right.  We sat for a while and watched the monitors. I was so happy to sit as my boots were killing me and the guys next to us had no respect for personal space and were gyrating way too far into my zone.  Finally it was almost eleven, she had done her two big numbers.  I knew the end was near. I said to Lucy,  “It’s almost eleven you have school tomorrow, if we leave now we are assured of a cab otherwise we are going to have to walk home.”

She had her coat and was headed out the door before you could say Poker Face.

I will say this, we lasted a half hour longer than the BIG BANG Concert.
And the apple sometimes doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Photo credit goes to Lucy Horowitz – with the exception of the photos she is in.