So then…I hop a flight to Vegas for the Lady Gaga ART POP Ball – ‘cuz that’s how I roll.
Actually, that’s how my niece rolls! And since she wanted to celebrate turning 18 this weekend at a Vegas Gaga concert, her mom (my sister) invited my 14-year-old daughter and moi to join the fun. So we have a blast enjoying Vegas all weekend, including the girls zip-lining down wild Fremont Street at midnight on Friday.
On Saturday, we splash it up at our hotel’s gorgeous pools at the MGM Grand where the concert’s being held tonight. After a lovely lunch at the poolside café, the server brings the bill.
Me: Can I put this on the hotel room?
Server: Sure. (grabs pen) What’s your hotel room number?
Server: What’s your last name?
Me: Gaga. First name — Lady.
Her head pops up, eyes wide.
Me: Yeah, she’s a good friend. She told me I could charge anything I want to her room.
The rest of my table cracks up laughing, so the server realizes I’m kidding. But I was close – THIS close, I tell ya – if my sister, niece, and daughter hadn’t blown my cover — dem lil bitches. (But they do refer to me as “First name: Lady” for the rest of the trip, so I forgive them.)
That night, we zip downstairs to the arena to rock out to the Gaga concert with my friends.
And by “friends,” I mean awesome people who let me take their picture and who don’t actually know they are friends with me – yet.
Because I desperately want to be friends with these people because they are amazingly enthusiastic and commited and cool and creative.
I mean, look at these outfits!
Yes, that’s a 6’4″ dude hanging out by the Roasted Nuts stand.
I LOVE this kind of fervor.
It doesn’t matter if you’re dressing up for a concert like this – or dressing up for a sporting event by painting your face with your team’s colors — you have my admiration for proudly displaying your allegiance. Go big or go home, baby!
The first act is a darling K-Pop group called CRAYON POP.
They wear colorful school girl outfits — and helmets for some inexplicable reason – (Do they need to make a speedy motorcycle getaway? Do they have identical head injuries? Or just a Bad Hair Day for everyone?) Whatever the reason, they look adorable as they pull off some highly-complicated synchronized dance moves while singing infectious pop songs. We LOVE them!
However, the middle act is some DJ chick at a soundboard playing what sounds like heavy metal Electronic Dance Music. And while I’m sure she’s a lovely person who probably crochets afghans for orphans and reads to blind puppies (so don’t take this personally, lady), but I hate EDM. Sounds like one monotonous bass line punctuated by noises a drunk rhino would make in a hoarder’s tool shed.
So during her set, I excuse myself to the ladies room — and take the opportunity to snap pics of my new “friends” out by the concessions while my sister stays in the seats with our daughters.
While I’m hangin’ with the Little Monsters, I receive this text from my daughter — which makes me laugh out loud. She knows me so well –
You should come back soon — this is the last “song” before Gaga
Ha! Damn right EDM deserves quotation marks around the word “song!”
As I weave through the crowd back to my seat, I’m energized by all the camaraderie amongst the attendees – young and old, gay and straight, every race, every nationality – everyone’s there for one reason — to have a BALL! Gaga’s all about love and self-acceptance – and we love that!
This concert’s going to be a spectacular spectacle filled with outrageous costumes and rousing renditions of G.U.Y., Gypsy, Poker Face, Paparazzi, Alejandro, Bad Romance, and much more.
Just before she takes the stage, 3 Hispanic men file into the seats in front of us. They’re dressed in jeans, drinking from super-size beer cans, and look like burly construction workers.
I don’t mean stylized construction workers like the dude from Village People. Or burly like Bears. Or muscular 6-pack abs like manual-laborers-slash-underwear models. I mean like burly macho Hispanic men you’d see at a construction site.
I exchange a quizzical look with my sister. I wonder if these guys accidentally wandered into the wrong arena on their way to a monster truck rally or a boxing match — and they have no idea they’re about to see this:
Or maybe they said to the hotel concierge, “Can you get us tickets to a Vegas show? Maybe magic or juggling or something?” And they sit down and see this:
I’m interested to see their reaction when the show starts.
I picture them looking puzzled and whispering “Que pasa?” to each other.
Suddenly the lights dim — then a burst of BLAZING LIGHTS! The music explodes — and Gaga and her dancers gyrate on stage in a dazzling frenzy of excitement!
My burly Hispanic construction workers instantly begin dancing the exact same moves as Gaga’s dancers.
Take that, stereotyping!
They’re amazing! These 3 guys know every word of every song — and every move of every dance! I’ve never seen more impressive gyrating in such a small space before! They’re limiting their movements to the 24 inch area directly in front of their seats – but oh they are fierce!
As the concert progresses, they venture outside their area a bit, dancing and gesticulating passionately – they turn around to dance with us, high five us, hug us, and sing loudly along with us. We have a blast together!
And that’s one of the reasons I love concerts so much – especially a concert like Lady Gaga – you never know who you’re going to meet –
And regardless if they look like Club Kids (blue circle) – or Local Librarians (red circle) –
They’re ALL here to PARTY — and revel in the music and spectacle that is:
Last Name: Gaga. First Name: Lady.
ROCK ON, LITTLE MONSTERS!
— Darcy Perdu
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(Been to a fun concert lately? Which outfit above is your favorite?)