80s again: Bon Jovi’s still got it

Those teeth. They’re perfect. Even from section 228, that was easy to see. The rest ain’t so bad either.

Jon Bon Jovi is something like 53 or 54 now, but man, the show last night had enough energy to prove he’s still got it.

It was so cool to see a show in Macau – the Venetian! – and having it be one of my 80s-90s favorites was a good choice.

 

Cotai Arena at the Venetian seats maybe 10,000 or so, and the band played two shows. I’m not sure what the deal was on Friday, but last night, they had some sections blocked off and the rest, including the seat in front of me, was not sold out.

Honestly, until the concert ad appeared in a newspaper we get at the office, I had no idea Bon Jovi was still around. Apparently there is new music, and of course there’s enough old stuff to fill a two-hour show.

I’d wondered about the opening act, and the show started a bit late – 8:20 or so, as opposed to 8 p.m. – and when unfamiliar music started after a bright (and often annoying) light show and a gray-haired guy in a gray shirt and black pants came out and started singing, I sat there wondering who the heck it was.

The voice wasn’t familiar at first, but once the chorus started I realize it was Jon himself. Oh, man. There’s less hair than in 1987, but that’s not a bad thing. 80s hair is not something to be proud of. What were we thinking?

And for the record, of the six members of the band, three still wore their 80s manes, including the keyboardist, whom my concert companion likened to a Muppet. He was very proud of that curly (likely permed) hair. He should not have been.

Anyway, Bon Jovi’s had work done, but man, he looks good. His teeth are perfect and the chest and arms weren’t far behind. Sadly, the behind is not something I ever got a good shot of. Every time he turned around, the camera operator would focus on one of the two guitarists instead of the jeans-wearing lead singer. Clearly, the mobile camera operator was not female.

I’d only heard about half the songs, though I did like the “newer” ones. (One was from a 2008 album, he said.) Very high-energy, although the strobe lights were a pain in my eyes. I continue to be impressed that light and sound people can choreograph so well.

My evening was amazing, but it didn’t start out that way. I’d commuted four hours to the show and I started out with a baby migraine due to dehydration. Although I’d been drinking water, I didn’t have enough of it and the commute was sunny and involved a lot of walking.

For lunch, the group of four had gone to a local diner and I’d had ramen noodles with a pork chop. As by that time, we were all famished (around 3 p.m. after an 8:30 a.m. start.)

***Obligatory TMI warning***

Trying to fend off the migraine (even though it never works), I pounded both a Coke and a bottle of water before the show. We had excellent seats -- top level, corner, three rows off the rail, on the aisle. And, importantly, a straight shot to the bathroom. By the time we sat down, I was feeling like I was going to puke. My concert companion and I were talking about our first/last/favorite concerts and, suddenly, it hit me. I said, "I'm going to the bathroom," and RAN up the stairs. Cannot emphasize the "ran" part more. Fortunately, it was mostly empty and there was a stall.

I didn't throw up. I pooped a ton of diarrhea and farted so loud/much that I need no DNA testing to prove I'm Zippy's daughter. It was awful. I don't think there was anyone else in the bathroom, though. Certainly no one who’d point fingers at me the next day or five years from now.

Went back to my seat, still feeling like I was going to toss my cookies and my companion offered me two Fishermen's Friends. I ate them slowly -- I thought the first one would put me over, but went through with the second. The vice in my skull continued tightening.

Then the show started and about 30 minutes in I realized I felt better. So I'm not sure whether it was the mints, Bon Jovi or the releasing of the gas. When I get migraines, I often feel like if I could just burp enough they'd go away, so maybe that was it. Either way, I felt fine by "Runaway" and spent two blissful hours gaping at the man's chest, arms and teeth.

I would have gaped at the tushie, but they didn't put it on the big screen.