July 18, 2002
Animal control has been contacted.
Animal control has been contacted. They will write up a report, a citation, and fine the neighbor. They're also going to quarantine the cats and make sure they're not rabid and whatnot. Maybe they'll be permanently removed and then the only remaining animals will be the neighbor's children.
Hard to focus at work today. I'm really excited about my Neil Finn mini-tour - I'm going to shows in New York, Boston, then New York again. Preparations have begun - camera, film, markers for autographs, musical immersion in the Neil/Crowded House catalog, the proper fun and quirky outfit - and learning how to make a proper paper plane. At least since the Crowded House days, if not during the Split Enz era, fans at shows have been making paper planes and sending them onstage. Song requests are usually scribbled on the planes and it's a great whimsy to see them flying onto the stage.
To other people this is just some concert. But there's a real communion between the fans and Neil. He's a great performer, really charismatic and engages the crowd, writes interesting, lyrical songs. There's something about his lovely tenor voice that just generates a marvelous, buzzy stir in your heart. And he's a really nice guy who acknowledges his fans, so of course we adore him right back. My friend Jen doesn't believe me when I say that people will be waiting in line and dash in to grab a spot by the stage and pretty much plant themselves for the night - I've been to shows in Athens (GA), Atlanta, Chicago, Myrtle Beach, and London. Except for the last one, which had assigned seating, every show's been the same - you get there early, you claim your spot, you take turns getting drinks, souvenirs, etc. and you hang out for the duration, including suffering any less than interesting opening acts. (Althought sometimes there have been pleasant surprises on that front.) Maybe when I'm too old for the crush of the crowd then I'll sit up in the balcony or hang towards the back. But for now I want the immersion, to sway in the crowd and bask in the sound and light at the feet of my favorite musician.