A Good Day to Remember Mraz Rockin' the Red*
I had never been to the Red Rocks in Colorado before. When I mentioned the awesomeness of it yesterday morning at coffee, Ann -- who makes a delicious sugar-free Amaretto latte -- tells me she had been as a child, sometime around '64, with her family camping in the area when the Beatles played the amphitheater. I'm thinking that concert may have been the only one to top the one we trekked over to see. I'm still enjoying it via some really crappy video footage which was partly due to my deeply conditioned dance reflexes. Hey, when a move hits ya', you gotta groove. So when I post, be warned, take a little Dramamine before hitting the 'play' button. Anyway, for those of you who've not seen this gorgeous place, I will FAIL to describe it...SO...plan B:
I know, right? If you can imagine, there is another huge rock formation to the right mirroring the large descending one (or ascending depending on your prospective) in the picture. I was struck with this vision of sitting in the cupped hands of God. Beyond the stage of the amphitheater, the city of Denver nearly twinkled as brightly as the stars overhead. It was such a clear and perfect night even the constellations got in on the action. Most notably ---> Aries (that's a high-5 to my beautiful babydoll & my world traveler ;). We had nosebleed seats and they were still the best in the house. Particularly since no one's nose bled and the altitude made me feel expansive and powerful. Of course, the fact that Mraz looked about an inch and a half high probably had something to do with that. I could have smooshed him between my index and thumb...now there's a photo op I missed...@#$%#.
Anyway, there were several moments when he sang that I worried those cupped hands would get the urge to applaud and we'd all be toast...but what a way to go! There is an angelic androgyny to his vocals that one might argue is heard in Heaven. Since I don't enjoy arguing, I'll just remain bias in my personal views of my muse. I do want to give him a shout-out for The Sunshine Song (a new tune -- and how nice of you to stop and introduce yourself) and somehow magically cuing the wind before singing Summer Breeze (a personal favorite of mine) and dusting off Dear Anna. Wow. Some songs are like fine wine. That one is intoxicating...of course, I could be mistaking it for whatever the guy next to me was smoking.
Mraz's best friend/roommate/brother-from-another-mother, Bushwalla aka the Optimist aka Prince of Polyester, was MC for the night and came out and sang a few of his originals. If I had my way, Bushwalla would have opened but I'm not in charge of such things. He's just the good kind of WEIRD and could be my brother-from-another-mother. Luckily, I have my own Ohioan with an even more impressive 'fro and talent to match. Enough of all that. If you get a chance, GO to a LIVE show and grab some Hemp ice cream while you're there! Now, I'm off to make some Really Crappy Camera Productions of the evening with crappy being the operant word...and that word is the perfect antonym to describe the evening.
*So much for that DVD 'behind the scenes' footage emphatically
proclaiming there would be no red on this tour.