By now you all know that I scored a front row center seat to see John Mayer at Madison Square Garden. I blogged about it last week and have pretty much been renting a billboard about it ever since. I’d been hoping for that ultimate seat to see John for years, so this really was a dream come true.
A few months ago, I gave his manager a copy of Waiting for You, in which my girl Marisa believes that the answers to all of life’s problems can be found in John Mayer’s music. I was hoping that his manager would give me a prime ticket to the show. That didn’t happen. Near the end of the letter I included with the book for John, I wrote:
“I’ll be focusing much positive energy on procuring a front-row seat to your upcoming Madison Square Garden show.”
The Universe said:
At previous concerts, the closest I’d ever gotten was second row side. Which seems like it should be really close, considering that there are like 20,000 worse seats. But I’d always get some wingnut directly in front of me who wasn’t even a fan, checking their email while John sang something like “Stop This Train.” Clueless about what they were hearing while I sang every word. Blocking my camera every time I wanted to take a photo.
Welcome to the life of a hardcore fan. It can be stressful at times. Like when I’m all set up at 9:59 for that 10:00 pre-sale, finger poised over the mouse, ready to click the second 10:00 strikes, just hoping that Ticketmaster will be kind. And then, of course, being disappointed with the selection of seats that aren’t even on the floor. But after many more hours of research and perseverance, I was the one thanking the Universe from Floor Section 2, Row A, Seat 4.
I cannot even tell you how incredible it was not to have anyone in front of me besides John. I jumped around as much as I wanted without worrying about accidentally smacking someone on the head, like I did three years ago when John was playing “Gravity” and I swung my arm up at the “Stay the hell away from me” part. Not that the person in front of me knew what he was singing. But violence is never the answer.
Being that close meant I could actually connect with John. I spazzed when he started playing “Bigger Than My Body” because I freaking love that song. John was totally singing right at me during the “Someday I’ll fly/Someday I’ll soar/Someday I’ll be/so damn much more” part because I’m pretty sure I was the only one up there who was that hardcore. He looked happy that someone appreciated his message.
I call that night the Universe Special. Not only did I have that Dream Is Reality seat, not only did John play so many of my faves, not only did I get to sit next to the girl I was battling it out in the auction with for those charity seats (hi, Caryl!), not only did I get to connect with John, but every single minute of that night felt just as amazing as I’d imagined it would. Actual experiences rarely live up to my ridiculously high expectations. This one absolutely did.
It felt like:
I left with a happy heart and inspired soul. It’s a kind of energy I’ll rely on for years. It was the ultimate celebration of what makes me feel alive. And that makes the experience priceless.
Of course I went back the next night. I was in the 8th row that time and it was a very different experience. I got to share it all with a friend, which meant a lot to me. And I was far away enough to see the screens and effects, which were really cool. You can see all of my best photos from the concerts on my Facebook. If we’re not already friends over there, what are you waiting for?