I’m so sorry if you’re tired of my Bette Midler stories. It’s just my thing. You know sexy books, studly heroes, and tacky boob jokes mixed in with heartfelt ballads.
Just so you know, I’m not traveling this road alone. Two of my best friends are right there with me. And
We realized last night as we had dinner and drinks before yet another Bette concert, that we’ve been taking these trips together for 20 years now.
Twenty fucking years?? I suddenly feel aged.
Now not all of our trips are concert bound, but enough are that I can safely say this isn’t just my thing. This is our thing. And I love it.
Last night’s concert was in Chicago and my girls and I didn’t realize until we got there we were in the nosebleed section. Actually, we were one section above the nosebleeds. One of my girls is deathly afraid of heights and spent the entire concert turned in her seat, watching me, listening to the concert, and cursing me for not getting better seats.
Even so. We had a great time and there is no better way, in my mind, to celebrate all these years of friendship than doing the thing we do.
On a side note, this time, Mr. Mancini tagged along. You know you married the right guy when he’s singing ballads right along with you. His love does have its limits, however. The souvenir stand.