Monday, 28 April 2014

Michael Bublé: Priceless

Here’s another instalment in the story I like to call: “Jenna’s 10 Year Love Affair With Michael Bublé.” Up until now, this love affair has been from afar (except for a barely-remembered phonecall when I was 14). Let me tell you all about it.

When Bublé announced his new tour dates, my friend Jane & I immediately resolved to get tickets. I had no idea that this was going to be one of the most stressful experiences of my life. I think I may have shed a tear when the website crashed trying to checkout my basket with two front row tickets. The whole thing was enough to put me off the major ticketing websites for good. I’ve been looking at using Gigantic for my next musical outing (hoping it will spare me some fingernails).

After hours of refreshing and some dashed dreams, a new date announcement & some speedy promo-code inputting resulted in two tickets, 6 rows from the front. This was huge for me. This show was the 5th time I’d seen Bublé and I’ve never managed to get very close. In fact, I usually end up behind some sort of post.

All of the stress, the crashes, the silent tears were totally worth it.

Bublé began in his usual dramatic style, breaking out Fever for a blast from the past. That was the opening number the first time I went to see him in 2004, so I was beyond excited - although his stage show has gotten a lot more elaborate since then. I’m almost certain that the fans in front row must have been left without eyebrows after those pyrotechnics.

The best moment of all, though, was when he spotted us in the crowd.

Jane & I had spent an hour in Starbucks before the show colouring on a cheap t-shirt in marker pen. It read: FUCK YEAH MICHAEL BUBLÉ ( I’ve run this blog for a few years now and it’s responsible for the small group of friends, through which I met Jane. I don’t even have to explain what happened next. Because the internet is truly a magical place, it’s all captured on film.

Which is pretty lucky really, as neither of us had any idea what was going on. We spent the next 24 hours shaking and saying did that really happen, so our memories are a little blurry.

II’ve been a Michael Bublé fan since I was 14. At 24 I had (begrudgingly) come to terms with the fact that I was never going to meet the man himself. But I did, and he gave me a kiss in front of 23,000 people.

I know that Jane and I were extraordinarily lucky. Things like that definitely do not happen every day. The show justified the ticket price (which is saying something!), but that experience was truly priceless.

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