Metal Meredith

That Moment In Time

I won’t bore you with all the gritty details of my night with Depeche Mode. I would think that the majority of people who read this site don’t know who they are. Even if they do, I am sure not many can really appreciate what a good concert experience means to me. If you are one of them, read this first to get a good idea.

I hate to fly. I mean, I really hate it. I am not worried about dying or being hijacked. I am uncomfortable, queasy, hot, confined, woozy and my head hurts. Luckily, on both the to and from flights, I was not seated next to anyone. I took my Dramamine like a good girl and quietly read my book, which needs to be perched at eye level since looking down makes me vomit. The hour and a half long flight passed without event.

Kym and I treated ourselves to a lunch at Ruby Tuesday and a few laps around the lovely Gwinnett Mall in Atlanta. We could have been at any mall in any state from the looks of it. Kym and I bought a few things and had burgers for lunch. We went to the hotel and both crawled onto our beds for an hour.

After making ourselves gloriously hot (ha!), we spent an hour driving around looking for the venue that was right in the middle of the big circle we had been traveling in. We went inside and immediately sat down. Our seats were so close, I have to admit on being a little queasy.

The show was 110 minutes of jumping, waving arms, singing, yelling, clapping and general hysterics. We were 5th row, but there was a catwalk taking up 2 rows right in front of us, so we were really 2nd row in front of Dave Gahan. It was fantastic.

At the very end, I was having one of those teenage girl moments where you think the lead singer is looking at you, but you don’t want to be the jerk that says it. So I just smiled really big and did a big ol’ exaggerated wink, but it didn’t stop. So I looked to my left and that guy was grinning at me, I looked at Kym and she was looking at me (she said she was tearing up) and someone behind me patted me on the back. This took me by surprise so I just went along with it. It seemed like 15 minutes, but surely was only 45 seconds or so. That was a rush. I will have to share the title of “girl sang to” with about 4 other people near me, who also are having the same butterflies this moment.

When the lights came up I was still not quite with it. We filed out and I kept thinking “I am not reacting because I have met this guy. I have been up close and have shook his hand”. But truthfully, I was a little giddy at the constant disappearance of my fantasy/reality line.

I came home on Sunday and was greeted at the airport by a 3 ft tall girl yelling “MAMA” and running toward me. She hugged me, grabbed my iPod and wanted to listen to what I was hearing. We sat in the airport, she on my lap, and both danced to “I Just Can’t Get Enough”.

It is true, I just can’t get enough. I have a good life.