Prologue: If anyone remembers, I posted last week that I was going to see David at the Nokia without DH's knowledge, under the guise of visiting our son. My first solo trip anywhere ever, let alone NYC. I feel sick. I feel nervous.

Departing by train at 6:50 AM I arrive at Penn Station a half hour late at 1PM
Well I'm here. Now must find a ladies room and how do I get out of the train station?
Success! Not only do I manage to exit the station but I find my hotel on 47th street a block from Broadway and Time Square, the heart of the theatre district.

DS meets me at the hotel. We're off to the Tenement Museum. If you get the chance I highly reccomend seeing this. It's fascinating especially if your family emigrated from Europe. Earlier, I have mentioned the possibility of stopping at JCPenny, but I have resigned myself to the fact that just isn't going to happen today. Off to a comedy club where I get to watch DS perform with his improv group, one of the primary reasons for this trip. DC related..... my son introduced me to some of his friends. One of which inexplicablly said to me, "I hear there's a Top Chef in your future??" I look to DS for a possible explaination of this statement. He says to his friend, "I said David Cook, not Top Chef"! Apparently, when he thought he couldn't make the show himself, he sent out an email looking for a DC fan to go to the show with me. LOL. A late soul food dinner and off to bed.

Thursday (Concert Day!) The plan, up early to spend a few hours at the Metropolitan Museum of Art before getting ready for the show. Plan fails due to me oversleeping. I am out by 9:30 and after a slight detour to check out the Nokia where a hardy group of fans is camped out with sleeping bags and camp chairs, I'm off!. My route to the MMA down 47th St. to 5th Ave. is exactly the route I will take to Central Park on Friday for GMA. A little reconnaissance is in order. 3 Avenues, 23 blocks later I reach the 69th St entrance to CP.
I find Rumsey Playfields and the Summer Concert Stage. Yay for me! Check my watch. Do I really have the time ( or energy) to walk 10 to 12 more blocks, wander the museum for a couple of hours, walk back 35 blocks and 3 Avenues (I have no experience hailing cabs or riding the subway alone) , get ready, wait in line for a few hours, then stand in the Nokia another few hours.....ummmmm nope. I return to the hotel after another detour to check out the Nokia. 1:30 the line is longer, but not bad. I treat myself to lunch, go to my room, lay down for just a moment and oops, fall asleep.

I am up, dressed and in a line that has gone from the entrance on 44th St. around the corner, creeping down Broadway, at 4:00. Two pairs of young women, who will become my line buddies quickly join me. I am 5' 2'' if I stand very straight and think tall thoughts, I decided I had to wear sandals with heels, hopefully raising me to 5' 4". I brought a pair of footie sox in my purse, thinking I might have to wear them to wait in line as these shoes were not really made for walking or standing for any length of time. The doors were opening at 7:00 so after chatting with my new friends about everything from families to pets and David, of course, for a couple of hours, we began to plan our bathroom strategy. Two or three would go at a time while the others held their places. Simple really. But where to go? McDonald's, Starbucks, The Marriot? More importantly could I walk anywhere? Those shoe were evil little torture devices after two plus hours of standing. Information came from somewhere down the line, about a lovely, but super secret ladies room on the 8th floor of the Marriot. Our instructions were: enter the hotel, take elevator P to the 8th floor and look like you belong there. We followed those directions, painful feet and all and voila! Heaven!
Lovely airconditioning, comfy chairs, etc. We never wanted to leave. I decided I could not walk back to the line in those dang shoes. What to do? I put on my footie sox, slip the shoes back on and, yes! I was almost pain-free. "This really looks stupid", I said to my new friend. "No it doesn't", she said, "This is New York! You can wear anything! " I loved her for that and we were off to wait for the doors to open.

Once inside the Nokia we opted to run down the stairs rather than take the escalator and ended up in the center about 7 or 8 rows back. Could see Andrew up in the VIP seats and Neal (love him) standing off stage watching GRO. About the show itself, well you've seen the videos and other recaps. Personally, for me, every show I've seen(4 so far, please god, let there be more) has been unique and special and amazing in it's own way. They've all made me feel that I was experiencing the best I'd ever had. This time when he added IJDIYAT to the encore he just pushed me over the edge. Seriously, just when I thought I couldn't love him anymore, he does that for me.

Late to bed, early to rise. After about 2 1/2 hours of sleep I was up at 4AM to see David in Central Park. I was ready to go by 4:30 but it was still dark as night out there. I waited until 4:50 for a little peek of daylight, but nope still dark. Well, it's now or never get a move on scaredy cat. I walked up 47th to Broadway and see 4 or 5 guys by the TKTS Booth. One of them is pretty upset telling the others about an incident that he was involved in. As I get closer I see that it's Josh the singer from GRO. In other circumstances I would have said hello and told him how much I enjoyed their performance that night because I really did, much more than at Foxwoods. I think because I was so much closer at the Nokia, I got into it a lot more. Anyway I felt bad that anything might have spoiled a night that was so special to them, being in NYC and having their families there. I continued down 47th street, in the dark, chanting my mantra, "you are insane, you are insane" to keep the scary thoughts away, dayum, when does the sun come up? Just before reaching 5th Avenue, a guy comes running by chased by a woman in short, tight black dress yelling for him to come back. Please, I'm thinking, no violence. I don't have time to be a witness. David Cook is meeting me in Central Park! 5th Avenue seems less threatening, less deserted. When I get to the Kenneth Cole store there is a long line of people waiting for something, not for David, so I hurry along. I reach the 69th Street entrance that I had scoped out the day before. Several others arrive at the same time. are we the first ones there?! Ha ha, of course not. A police officer tells us we have to enter at 72nd Street. We do and line up with the second group of 500 that will eventally get in. The sun has yet to make an appearance.

Inside I end up on Neal's side several rows back from the barracade in front of the stage. pretty close, yay for me! Too bad the teenager in front of me with the bobbing yellow balls sprouting from her head is a giant and we're packed in there so tight, I cannot see around her at all! The only saving grace is that I have my video camera which I can raise over her head, between the bobbing yellow balls, and I can see!! David, David, David you are worth it all.
2 1/2 hours sleep, long, dark, scary walk, giant teenagers, I wouldn't have missed this for anything. Little Lies.......OMG David's voice is beautiful, he is commanding the stage, he is the star. Kris you're adorable, are you skipping around the stage? Loved your version of Heartless. Adam, sorry, all I can think of is Elvis impersonator. Your look is just too contrived for my taste and I only like your voice sometimes on some songs. The band was amazing. Neal, Andy, Kyle, Monty.......love you all. Too soon the show is over.

Back home. I've decided the problem with loving David Cook is that you can never get enough of him. No matter how completely satisfied you feel at the end of his show, you want more. That is why I'm sending in my passport application this week, in the hope that he will perform in Canada before the tour is over and I will find a way to get there.
Is it wrong to pray for one more show?