Yesterday, I asked my co-worker to guess where I was going that night.

She said church, right?  For an instant I felt guilty and then I responded, yes, the church of Lenny Kravitz.  I’m pretty sure there will be some praise and worship going on.  Blasphemous, I know.  Nonetheless, it is what I said.

The following are some observations from the night.

In Dallas, it’s quite possible to often feel a little under-dressed for most events.  A Lenny Kravitz concert was apparently no exception.  Massive heels where in effect and lots of form fitting flattering clothing.  Meanwhile, I chose comfort over anything else which meant jeans, a tank, and a cardigan.  This wasn’t effortless casual chic, that you might see grace the cover of a J.Crew catalog.  My look was mostly just lacking in effort.  Thank goodness I had the wherewithal to where my new blue suede shoes.

I’m not sure what effect the shoes had on my outfit, but I think it helped inflate my crushed ego a bit.

As we watched the opening band, I was saddened that I was lacking in appreciation.  Usually, I’m wowed by the opening band and immediately become a fan.  Must buy their t-shirts, cds and take a picture with a member.  Not this time, though.  However, they did ask the audience to sing along at one point.  I’m not one to pass up a sing-a-long regardless of my approval level of a band.

Right as Lenny was about to come on stage, I noticed something similar to a what happens as a team goes onto the field.  There was a girl, hands lifted high, clapping the band on-stage.  I turned to my husband and asked him who he thought that girl was.

His response – the hype girl.

To which I asked, How much do you think a hype girl gets paid?  Do you think I could have a career as a hype girl?  I am great at hype.  

My husband responds, I think she probably has other jobs too……….

Me – Oh

My husband –  maybe she plays an instrument.  

Of course there’s always crowd watching at any show, and this was no different.  But why talk about the lady that was passed out 3 rows back during Are You Gonna Go My Way  – those suites must have been something else.  Or the girl in front of us that was whipping her head back and forth Willow-style and not holding much back during American Woman?

Or what about the several parents that brought their kid’s to a concert?  GASP!  As a parent of a four-year old, I must confess that I passed judgement.  GASP!  How else could I feel good about my lack of dress if not by judging someone else’s perceived poor choices.  Of course that all passed, when Lenny played a clean concert and made it a point to applaud the youngsters and their parents and to go on about how children are the future.  Mind you none of them were four years old, so it probably wouldn’t have been ok for us to take Lo.  I was wrong for judging.  Kids need music too.

But of course the real story was on stage.  Fabulous trumpet, trombone and saxophone.  Who even plays those instruments anymore unless they are in a marching band wearing uniforms?  These guys were definitely not wearing funny uniforms.  I wish I could have asked the trumpet player where he got his scarf.  It was fabulous.

And of course there’s the ever fabulous Lenny Kravitz.  Let’s not bypass his musical talents and only focus on his looks though I could understand why one would do that.  What a great performer, singer, looker, etc.  Great, great music.  AMAZING.  Even more amazing was when he told security to allow people to get closer to the stage.  Then the unthinkable happened, he got off the stage and came up, not just to the mezzanine but to the balcony to be with the people.  Who does that?  Lenny Kravitz that’s who.  I have no idea why I didn’t bolt and try to get a picture since he was literally within “throwing myself at him distance”.  I was afraid my husband would think I was crazy, not to mention let’s remember I was not really dressed to impress.  Those camera men weren’t just focusing on Lenny and we all know the camera can be oh so unkind.  Then of course there’s always my incredible way with words.  Who knows what craziness would have escaped from my lips.  That being said, I regret it.  Next time, Lenny.  I promise.