Friday, March 25, 2005
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Here's a salute to travelers of all kinds
I have met many on my journey: Chris, Brad, the one I wrote about that in my mind I have come to call Billy, Jennifer and Ian, who I have not written about, but whose journeys crossed with mine over the past two weeks.
Neil's words from this song have something to say to all of us. Whether the answers to our seeking and questioning are large or small, The journey, the process, the question is in itself an experience.
Wearin; my high boots, got all my worldlies
here in a sack.
Looking for something, knowing that it ain't
here where I'm at.
Ain't lookin' back.
I'm comin'.
Ride by thumbin'.
Get by bummin'.
I'm on my way,
Friend, have you seen glory road?
Say, friend, I got a heavy load,
and I know glory road's waiting for me.
Caught me a pickup down from Seattle
through to L.A.
Seems like those folks go chasin' a new star every day.
Ain't gonna stay.
Nevada,
through Wyomin',
Colorado.
I'm on my way,
friend, have you seen glory road?
Say, friend, I got a heavy load,
and I know glory road's waiting for me.
Met so many others.
Wanted to know
which way to go.
Louisiana,
New York City.
They wanted the answer.
They'd ask of me,
friend, have you seen glory road?
Say, friend, I got a heavy load,
and I know glory road's waiting for me.
Rest my load,
now I know glory road
won't set me free.
Glory Roads, words and music by Neil Diamond
Neil's words from this song have something to say to all of us. Whether the answers to our seeking and questioning are large or small, The journey, the process, the question is in itself an experience.
Wearin; my high boots, got all my worldlies
here in a sack.
Looking for something, knowing that it ain't
here where I'm at.
Ain't lookin' back.
I'm comin'.
Ride by thumbin'.
Get by bummin'.
I'm on my way,
Friend, have you seen glory road?
Say, friend, I got a heavy load,
and I know glory road's waiting for me.
Caught me a pickup down from Seattle
through to L.A.
Seems like those folks go chasin' a new star every day.
Ain't gonna stay.
Nevada,
through Wyomin',
Colorado.
I'm on my way,
friend, have you seen glory road?
Say, friend, I got a heavy load,
and I know glory road's waiting for me.
Met so many others.
Wanted to know
which way to go.
Louisiana,
New York City.
They wanted the answer.
They'd ask of me,
friend, have you seen glory road?
Say, friend, I got a heavy load,
and I know glory road's waiting for me.
Rest my load,
now I know glory road
won't set me free.
Glory Roads, words and music by Neil Diamond
Monday, March 14, 2005
Tuesday Morning 7 AM, or Monday Noon or 2 PM
Back on home soil and quickly out of time to post. More later. Great to be back on my home ground.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Sunday Morning, 9 AM
In order for the reader to fully appreciate the frustration I am feeling right now you need to have a better idea of where I am staying while in Sydney.
My hotel is in an area called Kings Cross. It is the red light district for Sydney and has been, so I am told, since the second world war. Mostly live-and let-live stuff, pretty seedy, but nothing that would make the average Joe feel unsafe (truth be told, there are streets within blocks of where I live where I wouldn't go at night but I get no feeling like that around here).
I have discovered that, if one is walking, the easiest and often most direct way to get to where you are going is to walk down Darlinghurst Rd from KC to Oxford Avenue (the predominantly gay area).
At the corner of Darlinghurst and Oxford is an old Catholic Church. A rather simple structure and pleasant but not well maintained. It is exactly what you would expect to find in the heart of the city including seemingly inviting steps that lead from the front door right down to the sidewalk and street.
During the day you will find, again as one might expect, skateboarding males who range in age from about 13 to 24. At night you will find some of these same young males trying to sell themselves in order to pay for shelter and food.
Walking back from the concert last night I heard many of these calling out- "Need some company mate. Take me home, mate. Worth your while, mate" or "let me take care of you mate" or "do anything for ya, mate." In many ways it was all the same, and altogether too sad.
Being an observer of the human condition, I watched this parade go on for a bit last night. I considered how it is that these, roughly the same age as Chris and Brad from before, could have ended up resorting to such behavior. If I had more time- this would be a story worth pursuing I think.
By contrast, the Cathedral of St. Mary, a bit further from my hotel, is the jewel of the city. Very attractive on all sides and picturesque inside. There is a book and gift store inside that is open at all hours and I understand it is quite difficult to book weddings there (I thought it odd that the curator of the gift store would see fit to share that piece of trivia).
Based on my experiences of both of these places I was more interested in seeing how Jesus resides in the less flashy part of town.
As I entered St James I was greeted by large black partitions (think of office cubicle walls). They were covered with large bold set printing which I determined to be copies of a letter the Parish Council had forwarded to their bishop. It appears there is some dispute about the use of the campus of a dying inner-city parish for development of a local Catholic University.
I might have been more interested as the woman greeter proceded to give me the details but it quickly started to sound like the whininess that can be all to prevalent in church people. There was no talk of what they could be doing with the space, simply that they did not want the college with all "those kids" and the parking concerns. She was really upset that the worship space would be reduced to about half the space that existed now.
Just perhaps, the bishop who they were trying to rally against had visited them on a Sunday and observed what I did. And just maybe, having observed, decided that Jesus had moved on (or at least was on vacation).
The church itself seats about 400 people. Pews on either side seat ten people and they extend back 20 rows. Half-way back there is a cross aisle for traffic from the side doors. It is in this area where the music ministers stood.
At the back of the church ( the area inside the front door) there was a statue of the Blessed Mother with votive candles surrounding at her feet. Most Catholics know that these prayer candles are there to light for your particular needs. They become a visible reminder to others that there exist people in the world who need our prayers and those faithful in turn can offer prayers on your behalf, even with no awareness of what your particular need is. There is almost always a cash box for freewill donations to offset the cost of the candles.
I sat in front of the cross aisle on the right hand side. This happened to be in front also of the overly ampliphied music leaders.
I must confess that as the Mass was about to begin I wondered if there would be music at all since the music ministers were no where to be found. At about 9 AM a nun dressed in white with a brown veil, possibly a benedictine (the order of hospitality) which makes the rest of this story more ironic.
There were 46 of us present for the Mass. We were spread throughout the large church (about 1/10 of the capacity). The nun, after lighting the candles on the altar (six of them, purple in color) moved to the music area and introduced our opening song (Hosea).
Come back to me
with all youir heart.
Don't let fear, keep us apart...
The amplification of the thrill canary-esque voices of this nun and the guitar accompanist was deafening (this from a guy who was in third row at a Neil Diaomnd concert the night before).
The presider, probably a decent enough sort, processed in from the side of the sanctuary. He gave a few opening comments about next Sunday being "Palm" or "Passion Sunday" and proceeded with the opening prayers of Mass.
As father moved forward to read the gospel I noticed a young man entering the side of the church to my left quietly so as not to draw attention to himself. He was carrying a skateboard and looked pretty rugged.
He genuflected and worked his way to the back of the church to the statue of Mary and the candles. At the same time, the nun who was leading music moved from her spot and walked toward the back of the church as well. Anyone who has had the privilege of Catholic education can imagine vividly the demeanor she took on during this time. Sister Mary Nazi was on the prowl.
It is important to note that the Gospel Reading taking place at this time was the story of the raising of Lazerus. This particular story, in the context of Lent and in preparation for the remembrance of the passion next weekend has two of the most profound statements of faith that exist in the whole of the Gospel. There is Thomas the Apostle's "let us also go to die with him." and Martha's "Lord I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Holy One of God."
So as the 40 some of us are having the Gospel opened for us the nun found her way to the young man, who after lighting his candles took a spot in one of the back pews kneeling in prayer. She said something to him that was audible (halfway across the church) but not understandable to my ear.
He tried to slide down the pew from her and continue his prayer. I had since changed my posture because I wanted to observe this spectacle better. She followed after him now and was asking him to empty his pockets and in the background at this exact moment I could hear the priest recalling the words of Jesus to Martha "your brother shall rise again".
He took two of the votives out of his pocket and started to cry as she called him a thief and told him that people pay for those candles that he used and tried now to steal. She pointed to the front door and he left. His sobs were so strong that his chest was heaving.
The rugged hard shell that exists when one is forced into selling their own body was gone. This woman used the capacity that God gives us all to reach within another human being and instead of showing him the face of Christ, or better still letting the face of Christ come forth from him, she shamed him and made him feel like a defenseless weeping little boy.
"The Gospel of The Lord" could be heard in its overampliphied tones along with the response "thanks be to God".
I decided that the mood for worship was gone for me and departed from the church. I am not sure if I will be able to find another opportunity this Sunday but couldn't stay after having witnessed this debacle.
As I went out the front steps of the church I noticed that this young man was the same one that had called out the night before, "Need some company, mate. Take me home, mate. Worth your while, mate"
He was crying on the front steps of the same church where he had been the night before. I asked if he was okay and he offered this sponteneous confession of sorts.
" I got nothing, mate. I am worthless and homeless. I wanted to pray. I needed to go to church. I stole candles to try to get some food. I've been selling my bum trying to get some money for food and a roof." "I got no where to go." He said between sobs.
I gave him the $10 intended for the collection basket. And while I have no doubt this boy will be out on the streets again tonight I still felt it was better used then it would have been by this particular church. I also have no doubt that the nun who seemed a bit too satisfied with herself will be telling a whole different account of this story.
Would this parish in one of the seediest parts of town be struggling for its life if the people represented by the woman who greeted me, the nun and the over ampliphied self-important musician actually put into practice the messages of the lenten gospels?
I am not surprised that places like the Cathedral of St Mary exist. In fact, you can pretty much count on it in every city in the world, whatever the religion. But when the church of our Lord exists in an area where his love is clearly needed we all-to-often blunder at letting him work in us.
Whatever your faith, look for the opportunity to offer God's love to others. Even if they don't see it in themselves, each and every one is worthy of God's goodness- reach out and say to the most desperate ones you can find - rise, see, believe, live.
My hotel is in an area called Kings Cross. It is the red light district for Sydney and has been, so I am told, since the second world war. Mostly live-and let-live stuff, pretty seedy, but nothing that would make the average Joe feel unsafe (truth be told, there are streets within blocks of where I live where I wouldn't go at night but I get no feeling like that around here).
I have discovered that, if one is walking, the easiest and often most direct way to get to where you are going is to walk down Darlinghurst Rd from KC to Oxford Avenue (the predominantly gay area).
At the corner of Darlinghurst and Oxford is an old Catholic Church. A rather simple structure and pleasant but not well maintained. It is exactly what you would expect to find in the heart of the city including seemingly inviting steps that lead from the front door right down to the sidewalk and street.
During the day you will find, again as one might expect, skateboarding males who range in age from about 13 to 24. At night you will find some of these same young males trying to sell themselves in order to pay for shelter and food.
Walking back from the concert last night I heard many of these calling out- "Need some company mate. Take me home, mate. Worth your while, mate" or "let me take care of you mate" or "do anything for ya, mate." In many ways it was all the same, and altogether too sad.
Being an observer of the human condition, I watched this parade go on for a bit last night. I considered how it is that these, roughly the same age as Chris and Brad from before, could have ended up resorting to such behavior. If I had more time- this would be a story worth pursuing I think.
By contrast, the Cathedral of St. Mary, a bit further from my hotel, is the jewel of the city. Very attractive on all sides and picturesque inside. There is a book and gift store inside that is open at all hours and I understand it is quite difficult to book weddings there (I thought it odd that the curator of the gift store would see fit to share that piece of trivia).
Based on my experiences of both of these places I was more interested in seeing how Jesus resides in the less flashy part of town.
As I entered St James I was greeted by large black partitions (think of office cubicle walls). They were covered with large bold set printing which I determined to be copies of a letter the Parish Council had forwarded to their bishop. It appears there is some dispute about the use of the campus of a dying inner-city parish for development of a local Catholic University.
I might have been more interested as the woman greeter proceded to give me the details but it quickly started to sound like the whininess that can be all to prevalent in church people. There was no talk of what they could be doing with the space, simply that they did not want the college with all "those kids" and the parking concerns. She was really upset that the worship space would be reduced to about half the space that existed now.
Just perhaps, the bishop who they were trying to rally against had visited them on a Sunday and observed what I did. And just maybe, having observed, decided that Jesus had moved on (or at least was on vacation).
The church itself seats about 400 people. Pews on either side seat ten people and they extend back 20 rows. Half-way back there is a cross aisle for traffic from the side doors. It is in this area where the music ministers stood.
At the back of the church ( the area inside the front door) there was a statue of the Blessed Mother with votive candles surrounding at her feet. Most Catholics know that these prayer candles are there to light for your particular needs. They become a visible reminder to others that there exist people in the world who need our prayers and those faithful in turn can offer prayers on your behalf, even with no awareness of what your particular need is. There is almost always a cash box for freewill donations to offset the cost of the candles.
I sat in front of the cross aisle on the right hand side. This happened to be in front also of the overly ampliphied music leaders.
I must confess that as the Mass was about to begin I wondered if there would be music at all since the music ministers were no where to be found. At about 9 AM a nun dressed in white with a brown veil, possibly a benedictine (the order of hospitality) which makes the rest of this story more ironic.
There were 46 of us present for the Mass. We were spread throughout the large church (about 1/10 of the capacity). The nun, after lighting the candles on the altar (six of them, purple in color) moved to the music area and introduced our opening song (Hosea).
Come back to me
with all youir heart.
Don't let fear, keep us apart...
The amplification of the thrill canary-esque voices of this nun and the guitar accompanist was deafening (this from a guy who was in third row at a Neil Diaomnd concert the night before).
The presider, probably a decent enough sort, processed in from the side of the sanctuary. He gave a few opening comments about next Sunday being "Palm" or "Passion Sunday" and proceeded with the opening prayers of Mass.
As father moved forward to read the gospel I noticed a young man entering the side of the church to my left quietly so as not to draw attention to himself. He was carrying a skateboard and looked pretty rugged.
He genuflected and worked his way to the back of the church to the statue of Mary and the candles. At the same time, the nun who was leading music moved from her spot and walked toward the back of the church as well. Anyone who has had the privilege of Catholic education can imagine vividly the demeanor she took on during this time. Sister Mary Nazi was on the prowl.
It is important to note that the Gospel Reading taking place at this time was the story of the raising of Lazerus. This particular story, in the context of Lent and in preparation for the remembrance of the passion next weekend has two of the most profound statements of faith that exist in the whole of the Gospel. There is Thomas the Apostle's "let us also go to die with him." and Martha's "Lord I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Holy One of God."
So as the 40 some of us are having the Gospel opened for us the nun found her way to the young man, who after lighting his candles took a spot in one of the back pews kneeling in prayer. She said something to him that was audible (halfway across the church) but not understandable to my ear.
He tried to slide down the pew from her and continue his prayer. I had since changed my posture because I wanted to observe this spectacle better. She followed after him now and was asking him to empty his pockets and in the background at this exact moment I could hear the priest recalling the words of Jesus to Martha "your brother shall rise again".
He took two of the votives out of his pocket and started to cry as she called him a thief and told him that people pay for those candles that he used and tried now to steal. She pointed to the front door and he left. His sobs were so strong that his chest was heaving.
The rugged hard shell that exists when one is forced into selling their own body was gone. This woman used the capacity that God gives us all to reach within another human being and instead of showing him the face of Christ, or better still letting the face of Christ come forth from him, she shamed him and made him feel like a defenseless weeping little boy.
"The Gospel of The Lord" could be heard in its overampliphied tones along with the response "thanks be to God".
I decided that the mood for worship was gone for me and departed from the church. I am not sure if I will be able to find another opportunity this Sunday but couldn't stay after having witnessed this debacle.
As I went out the front steps of the church I noticed that this young man was the same one that had called out the night before, "Need some company, mate. Take me home, mate. Worth your while, mate"
He was crying on the front steps of the same church where he had been the night before. I asked if he was okay and he offered this sponteneous confession of sorts.
" I got nothing, mate. I am worthless and homeless. I wanted to pray. I needed to go to church. I stole candles to try to get some food. I've been selling my bum trying to get some money for food and a roof." "I got no where to go." He said between sobs.
I gave him the $10 intended for the collection basket. And while I have no doubt this boy will be out on the streets again tonight I still felt it was better used then it would have been by this particular church. I also have no doubt that the nun who seemed a bit too satisfied with herself will be telling a whole different account of this story.
Would this parish in one of the seediest parts of town be struggling for its life if the people represented by the woman who greeted me, the nun and the over ampliphied self-important musician actually put into practice the messages of the lenten gospels?
I am not surprised that places like the Cathedral of St Mary exist. In fact, you can pretty much count on it in every city in the world, whatever the religion. But when the church of our Lord exists in an area where his love is clearly needed we all-to-often blunder at letting him work in us.
Whatever your faith, look for the opportunity to offer God's love to others. Even if they don't see it in themselves, each and every one is worthy of God's goodness- reach out and say to the most desperate ones you can find - rise, see, believe, live.
Friday, March 11, 2005
From Sydney
I suppose it would be possible, if one had enough time, to walk everywhere in Sydney. I am having a great time just hanging out and people watching.
Olympic Park is a bit of a distance however and it would be unreasonable to try to take on that travel on foot at night.
The concert last night was great. The people in Sydney are every bit as reserved as their NZ counterparts but I overcame that obstacle with an aisle seat, stage right row 14. The area behind be was a walk-though between sections so there was no one behind to complain.
There were times during the show when it was obvious that Neil was performing just for me -"Skybird" and "Beautiful Noise" he actually pointed right at me and at the beginning of Red Red Wine he laughed at me.
Lots have been asking , here on the blog and through email for links to Chris' travelblog. I will attempt that when I get home and have my one computer in front of me again.
I am also working on a book that I picked up in a coffee house here in Sydney. There is a volunteer organization to promote world-wide literacy bookcrossings.org . The idea is you leave books around in public places for others to read and share and follow the books travel story. Think how fascinated the woman who purchased this bookm will be when it ends up at a coffee shop in Minneapolis.
Welcome to new readers - Gotta run.
What an interesting world we live in
Olympic Park is a bit of a distance however and it would be unreasonable to try to take on that travel on foot at night.
The concert last night was great. The people in Sydney are every bit as reserved as their NZ counterparts but I overcame that obstacle with an aisle seat, stage right row 14. The area behind be was a walk-though between sections so there was no one behind to complain.
There were times during the show when it was obvious that Neil was performing just for me -"Skybird" and "Beautiful Noise" he actually pointed right at me and at the beginning of Red Red Wine he laughed at me.
Lots have been asking , here on the blog and through email for links to Chris' travelblog. I will attempt that when I get home and have my one computer in front of me again.
I am also working on a book that I picked up in a coffee house here in Sydney. There is a volunteer organization to promote world-wide literacy bookcrossings.org . The idea is you leave books around in public places for others to read and share and follow the books travel story. Think how fascinated the woman who purchased this bookm will be when it ends up at a coffee shop in Minneapolis.
Welcome to new readers - Gotta run.
What an interesting world we live in
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
I thought Chris was interesting
because the concept of doing what he did and is doing was so foreign to me. Then today I met brad, from Florida. He is roughly the same age and his story is pretty much the same (except that he started in Europe and Asia and is continuing now through Australia and New Zealand before heading home in May.
Is there anyone who has information of similar people? this is apparently more common than I thought.
Is there anyone who has information of similar people? this is apparently more common than I thought.
I had the coolest time today.
On the flight to Sydney I had the privilege of meeting an interesting young man named Chris.
The first person to coin the phrase, " Youth is wasted on the wrong people." was not talking about Chris.
Chris sat next to me on the flight over to Sydney. I recognized the US accent, which at this point I am beginning to miss more than I thought I would.
In the next several hours I came to discover that Chris has taken the opportunity to travel around the world, with no particular destinations in mind and no particular time-frame. He is spending the night in Sydney before going on to Singapore.
How many of us wish we had the carefree spirit it would take to make such a huge leap of faith?
Anyone who has ever traveled with me before knows that I am the sort who keeps to my own business and really don't much want to know about the person sitting next to me- save that they have bathed within the past week. But Chris has an infectious and friendly demeanor that led me to actually want to hear what he had to say. I found myself greatly admiring-as I said to him -the sense of adventure it would take to leave a relatively secure position in order to see the world and travel unencumbered. We ended up sharing a shuttle into town and continuing our conversation into dinner (a late dinner by my standard). I hope the conversation was half as exciting for him.
The point of my even mentioning Chris is that meeting this interesting sort of person demonstrates exactly the kind of thing that can happen on any journey- no matter how brief.
Chris shared his travel blog information with me. I hope to follow him for a bit and see where his adventures take him.
I hope his story - even as briefly shared as it is in this spot- encourages others to take the risk and live life to the full.
The first person to coin the phrase, " Youth is wasted on the wrong people." was not talking about Chris.
Chris sat next to me on the flight over to Sydney. I recognized the US accent, which at this point I am beginning to miss more than I thought I would.
In the next several hours I came to discover that Chris has taken the opportunity to travel around the world, with no particular destinations in mind and no particular time-frame. He is spending the night in Sydney before going on to Singapore.
How many of us wish we had the carefree spirit it would take to make such a huge leap of faith?
Anyone who has ever traveled with me before knows that I am the sort who keeps to my own business and really don't much want to know about the person sitting next to me- save that they have bathed within the past week. But Chris has an infectious and friendly demeanor that led me to actually want to hear what he had to say. I found myself greatly admiring-as I said to him -the sense of adventure it would take to leave a relatively secure position in order to see the world and travel unencumbered. We ended up sharing a shuttle into town and continuing our conversation into dinner (a late dinner by my standard). I hope the conversation was half as exciting for him.
The point of my even mentioning Chris is that meeting this interesting sort of person demonstrates exactly the kind of thing that can happen on any journey- no matter how brief.
Chris shared his travel blog information with me. I hope to follow him for a bit and see where his adventures take him.
I hope his story - even as briefly shared as it is in this spot- encourages others to take the risk and live life to the full.
A review from the second concert in Christchurch New Zealand
March 8th Review,
Okay, after last night’s concert I understand a bit better why Christchurch folks are so reserved.
There was a guy behind me who looked about 25 or so. Married to a girl, he says who “hates Neil” so he was there with his dad. They both were very stoic in their appreciation (arms crossed and all that) but seemed to get a huge kick out of me. As the show progressed I noticed the older of the two was singing and clapping along with every song . At “America” I stood and my whole group was right with me. I would later learn that the commentary before the song would perhaps not be well received by many there given the political climate. The group standing for this song was again a small minority.
I got the first hint of what can happen when a kiwi let’s his guard down (probably because someone around them is being more foolish than they could ever look themselves) during “Forever In Bluejeans”. The stoic, macho father/son pair behind me, my whole row, and eventually the whole stadium (save about 6 really stubborn kiwis in the first raised row just to the left of my seats) were on their feet and quite unwilling to sit at the end of the song. Loud sing-along from a group in my section during You Don’t Bring Me Flowers was a surprise even to me. I don’t think I have ever seen that before.
Now when kiwis cut loose, and they did, a reasonable person might fear, just a bit for his life.
How many of you have ever been the person in the center of a row during Sweet Caroline when the half to your right is swaying to- and- fro and the half to your left is swaying fro- and- to? I was getting seriously squished ( the son from the father/son team behind me found that very amusing, btw). I even tried without success to get the two groups to come together but ultimately decided that my best move was to duck and cover. At this point the whole crowd was pretty well into the show. They stayed on their feet through “I’m a Believer” and seemed quite reluctant to sit as “Glory Road” began.
The crowd, once they came to life were quite lively indeed. They stood (every one) from the end of IAIS until the band left the stage. Other than the fact that I am a bit black and blue - this could well be one of the best concert experiences I have ever had (perhaps a top-10). Neil was rock solid tonight. His voice was rich and his timing is really coming together.
As I sit here in the airport at Christchurch, there is much more to reflect on regarding my experience here. I learned that the further south you go in NZ, the more culturally conservative the people are (remember folks, no pink shirts on guys south of Aukland). I also learned that you should be careful what you ask for when trying to get people to come out of their shell. There is usually a party animal locked somewhere deep inside. In groups this can be quite dangerous.
I also benefited from conversations with the natives which helped me to understand relations between our nations and a bit about the Kiwi economy. Given their liberal politics and conservative lifestyles, any mid-westerner from the US would feel quite at home here. I recommend NZ for anyone whether you are coming to see Neil or take in the sites and possible a rugby game.
In the Band intro, Neil promises, “we’re gonna rock this town.” He delivered big time.
A few doses of pain killer and a good couple of nights sleep and I will be ready for Sydney.
Okay, after last night’s concert I understand a bit better why Christchurch folks are so reserved.
There was a guy behind me who looked about 25 or so. Married to a girl, he says who “hates Neil” so he was there with his dad. They both were very stoic in their appreciation (arms crossed and all that) but seemed to get a huge kick out of me. As the show progressed I noticed the older of the two was singing and clapping along with every song . At “America” I stood and my whole group was right with me. I would later learn that the commentary before the song would perhaps not be well received by many there given the political climate. The group standing for this song was again a small minority.
I got the first hint of what can happen when a kiwi let’s his guard down (probably because someone around them is being more foolish than they could ever look themselves) during “Forever In Bluejeans”. The stoic, macho father/son pair behind me, my whole row, and eventually the whole stadium (save about 6 really stubborn kiwis in the first raised row just to the left of my seats) were on their feet and quite unwilling to sit at the end of the song. Loud sing-along from a group in my section during You Don’t Bring Me Flowers was a surprise even to me. I don’t think I have ever seen that before.
Now when kiwis cut loose, and they did, a reasonable person might fear, just a bit for his life.
How many of you have ever been the person in the center of a row during Sweet Caroline when the half to your right is swaying to- and- fro and the half to your left is swaying fro- and- to? I was getting seriously squished ( the son from the father/son team behind me found that very amusing, btw). I even tried without success to get the two groups to come together but ultimately decided that my best move was to duck and cover. At this point the whole crowd was pretty well into the show. They stayed on their feet through “I’m a Believer” and seemed quite reluctant to sit as “Glory Road” began.
The crowd, once they came to life were quite lively indeed. They stood (every one) from the end of IAIS until the band left the stage. Other than the fact that I am a bit black and blue - this could well be one of the best concert experiences I have ever had (perhaps a top-10). Neil was rock solid tonight. His voice was rich and his timing is really coming together.
As I sit here in the airport at Christchurch, there is much more to reflect on regarding my experience here. I learned that the further south you go in NZ, the more culturally conservative the people are (remember folks, no pink shirts on guys south of Aukland). I also learned that you should be careful what you ask for when trying to get people to come out of their shell. There is usually a party animal locked somewhere deep inside. In groups this can be quite dangerous.
I also benefited from conversations with the natives which helped me to understand relations between our nations and a bit about the Kiwi economy. Given their liberal politics and conservative lifestyles, any mid-westerner from the US would feel quite at home here. I recommend NZ for anyone whether you are coming to see Neil or take in the sites and possible a rugby game.
In the Band intro, Neil promises, “we’re gonna rock this town.” He delivered big time.
A few doses of pain killer and a good couple of nights sleep and I will be ready for Sydney.
Sunday, March 06, 2005
bland sausage and runny milkshakes, bad news
all this leading up to the big moment when neil takes the stage three hours from now.
The news here had an interesting piece about the italian killed by US troops. I am curious if US media covered it at all. Please Share!!!
The news here had an interesting piece about the italian killed by US troops. I am curious if US media covered it at all. Please Share!!!
Saturday, March 05, 2005
The New Zealand Star-Times had this with an excellent Photo
Neil Diamond Electrified a capacity - if elderly- crowd of 32,000 at Wellington's Westpac Stadium last night. The 64 year old, who made his sequinned body suits famous, (why don't they let it go already?)will play two further sold out concerts in Christchurch tomorrow and Tuesday. He has insisted ticket prices for his tour remain under $100 because he wants as many people as possible to see his shows.
I don't see any sequins on his shirt, which is black and has a tight flowered embroidery over the shoulders and front. I tried to work out a way to email the photo but am still having tech problems.
Just under two days before I see for myself.
I don't see any sequins on his shirt, which is black and has a tight flowered embroidery over the shoulders and front. I tried to work out a way to email the photo but am still having tech problems.
Just under two days before I see for myself.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Arrived in Christchurch
There was a car that drove by blairing Neil Diamond out his windows. That was cool. It is obvious why that guy is here. Met a woman today who didn't know Neil is in town. She was on a flight out and was understandably bummed. More later.
jon
jon
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
The next 11 days
Join me as I embark on a journey down under to follow one of my truest passions. Neil Diamond will be touring in New Zaland and in Autralia. I will be at the concerts in Christchurch and in Sydney.
I will do what I can to give periodic updates from new Zealand and Australia focussed on the concerts (March 7,8, 11,12,13) and the sites as I take them in. If you don't see updates, assume I am an idiot and unable to handle the technology.
Peace.
I will do what I can to give periodic updates from new Zealand and Australia focussed on the concerts (March 7,8, 11,12,13) and the sites as I take them in. If you don't see updates, assume I am an idiot and unable to handle the technology.
Peace.
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