4/8/08, Beacon Theater, 8: 45 pm. On our sixteen-month anniversary, BF and I had nosebleed seats, so all I saw were Ray Davies's chicken legs and bright thinning-in-the-front hair. The voice, though, is that of a triumphant bear with a slight cold, which I soaked in even though I always thought of The Kinks as the band that took away slightly from Duran Duran's airtime on MTV in the 80s. And he was Chrissy Hynde's luvah. The music holds up in any era and I relished seeing yet another oldie but goodie come back. Like a good straight boy, BF bobbed his head, swayed jerkily and sang. Throughout, we were treated to the smell of marijuana wafting to our section. After the concert, Dish sped home to read his bio and thought, omigod, he and I are so much alike--except for the age diff, nationality, stardom, music, children, marriage, gunshot wound--I came close once. I am now a fan of Ray Davies (even though he's a Gemini).4/9/08: 18th and 7th Ave, 1:15 p.m. Dragging my nasty ass to the gym, I brush by Janel Moloney. Oh no you di'nt! I gasped out loud. Amber Frey. More importantly, that chicky on The West Wing! Looks exactement gorgeous like on TV but here had on a black coat and may have had shorter hair. Just in case you wanted minutia.
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