Here I Am, the One that You Love

So, this is me last night just before leaving to see Air Supply at the Orleans.

It was a landmark event because I'm pretty sure I haven't worn a sleeveless shirt (without something over it) since puberty. But, I liked the color. Pink! (Or "ashes of roses" if you're a Thornbirds survivor.)

The concert was good. Graham Russell jumps around more a lot when he isn't speaking mystically of rivers and eternity, and Russell Hitchcock's voice is forceful and clear. And the fans are loony - all holding up cell phones or full SLR rigs and one by one by six by seven running up to G or R to have friends take photos while the guys are playing/singing and moving up the aisles. Both men took flight more than once, with R. actually escaping down a row to get away from a throng of Asians, all with cameras and intentions, lest the song end before he could get back to the stage.

Not to mention the shoving that takes place during the mandatory "all rise and crowd the stage, yes, even you in the back" part of the sermon. I didn't raise my hand to have it touched, which I think is how I was lucky enough to have Russell's red leather pants pressed to my face for several seconds. That's what I get for being a little oasis where he could stand without having someone yank down his  zipper, which I totally could have done, instead of trying to step back a bit to keep said zipper from doing a Silly Putty press on my forehead. (He's not a tall man.)

But it's a good, high energy show. I didn't hang around for the rumored meet and greet. There were too many people there who fly in every year just to see Air Supply play Vegas, and standing in line with the same people who chased G & R while they were singing would've affected my personal sense of aloof equality. (Which, I realize, no one else is measuring.)

One of the reasons I took a picture of myself was because Mike just did the same on Flickr. Here he is:

In other Flickr news, I finally uploaded some photos from last month. For example, I'm all into the pysanky now...

Alas, that's someone else's. As are these critters:

The food festival was full of nice things that I don't want to eat.

Although these guys brew quite the refreshing sangria:

The day before, I saw a rainbow:

That was when I was leaving Red Rock Canyon.

And on that trip, I finally saw the ancient petroglyphs and pictograms.

Before that, I was driving around in the imminent rain, capturing bits of Vegas history before they get torn down. There are many better photos of the 50s (or earlier) era motels on Fremont Street with their Googlie neon signs, especially the night shots and close-ups, but I like that I, not having a wheel man and not wanting to walk around the area, took these photos "in context." So maybe the sky was unnaturally gloomy that day, but all the power lines, locked fences, and other decay show why sometimes there isn't more outcry when these places go.

You've met Holly before, of course. Good lad.

And somewhere in all this, I finally located and assembled the right California Closets unit in the right shade, a piece that is just perfect for craft storage. (A few weeks later, CC announced they were opening a store down the street. Argh!)

And crafts are how I'm going to spend this lazy Memorial Day, wth just an hour before Mike gets home and we can talk about Lost. May I actually glue something to something else instead of just moving my beads and fibres and rub-ons around in an admiring way.