Monday, May 09, 2005

it was all yellow.

let me tell you a story about the time gwyneth paltrow and i saw a coldplay concert in my living room.

the atmosphere was alive as we arrived at the metro for the live music event of the season. a cubs game had just let out at wrigley field. everywhere, excited people filled the streets enjoying the warmth and the extended spring daylight hours. walking into the venue we felt like movie stars at a red carpet premiere as desperate onlookers crowded around hoping to catch some of the excitement wafting off those of us lucky enough to have tickets. the show was set to begin at 7:00. maybe it was because the metro is so small that there was no possible way anyone could stand farther than 25 feet from chris martin's piano. maybe it was because there was no opening act to buffer our anticipation. maybe it was because the show started over an hour late. but the emotions in the crowd were palpable. and when queen gwyneth finally sat down in the VIP section of the balcony, we knew it was go time.

trying to contain the energy and power of a band like coldplay in a venue as small as the metro is like trying to fit a watermelon in a ziplock baggie. i was worried the whole place might just explode from the wonder of it all. because the tickets sold out in less than 60 seconds, the whole crowd was filled with people who loved coldplay enough to either make the effort to be first in line at a ticketmaster outlet or pay 500 bucks per ticket on ebay. everyone listened attentively to the new songs and went completely crazy during the more familiar tunes. chris was his usual effervescent self as he jumped around the stage and hurled the mic out into the crowd encouraging us to sing along. packed in like sardines, sweat dripping off our faces, beer spilled all over our feet. it was perfect. even chris thought so. he told us.

more on gwyneth...
i love gwyneth paltrow. and i was hoping that she would be there. just because it makes the story that much more exciting to tell. when she first sat down she just sort of set her face in her hands and gazed down at the stage, nonverbally communicating perhaps the understatement of the century, "oh there's my husband playing his piano, isn't he dreamy?" i'd hate her if i didn't think she was so cool. but, you know, we all sway our bodies to the music one beat at a time. the only difference between me and gwyneth paltrow (besides her beauty and talent and awards and cash flow and all that) is that, at the end of the show, she gets to go home with the lead singer. so. ok. she wins.

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