Hey, kids.
Greetings from New York, where I train-ed up yesterday to catch Ricky Gervais and Bon Jovi.
Only in New York could it be so convenient to be able to see all but the last 10 minutes of Gervais’ set at the Theater at Madison Square Garden (technically now called something like WaMu Theater, but I don’t buy into that sponsorship nonsense), then take two escalators and arrive inside the actual Madison Square Garden (kill me when the day comes that it’s renamed the Dunkin Donuts Arena at MSG) to see the last night of Bon Jovi’s tour, only having missed about 15 minutes of that show.
Wow, that’s a long sentence. But that’s kind of how my day went.
I guess I’m so used to flying into New York lately that I had forgotten that the six and a half hour train ride from Richmond to Penn Station feels like 36 hours – especially when every train car is filled with squealing, seat-climbing children (really, parents, could you put down the cell phone for 20 seconds and, like, parent?).
Anyway, the real reason for this trip (funded by moi, BTW – I’m technically on vacation) is to attend tonight’s Last Play at Shea concert with Billy Joel.
Although, it’s really the Almost Last Play At Shea since a few hours after the “only, final concert” at Shea sold out within minutes a couple of months ago, a second “really, we swear it’s the last show” was immediately added for Friday.
But, whatever. I’ll take Mr. Joel in his hometown any day – especially now that I hear rumblings that Tony Bennett might pop up as a guest.
So I had always planned to come up for the Joel show, and then, several weeks ago, Bon Jovi added the final two dates to its “Lost Highway” tour – the last one being Tuesday.
How could I resist?
And to complete the trifecta, Gervais recently announced he would play three shows in L.A. and three shows in New York – yep, Monday, Tuesday and today.
So really, what’s a girl to do? Attend them all! Heck, I could have hopped the subway to Yankee Stadium after the Jovi show and still caught the last few innings of the All Star Game, the way that one turned out.
But on to the point: Ricky Gervais is as goofy and hysterical as you might have guessed if you’ve seen his masterwork on “The Office” (the original, not the lukewarm American copycat) and HBO’s “Extras.”
All six of his U.S. dates are being recorded for an HBO special; probably why he kept his uniform simple – black T-shirt and pants. The easier to splice different parts from different shows together.
As much as I’d like to tell you some of his best jokes, well, I can’t. Our sister publications can get away with using certain language on our Web site, but anything associated with the Times-Dispatch tries to be a little more…appropriate.
Let’s just say that Gervais is more of a storyteller than a rat-a-tat-tat comedian. But he still deftly moved from such un-PC topics as cancer, autism, Nazis and obesity (“Fat people whine about airplane seats. ‘They’re not made for someone my size.’ No! They’re not! If they were, they would only be able to get 12 [bleepin’] seats on the plane!”).
Gervais’ delivery, though, is what makes an amusing story a hysterical one. Even his entrance – set to Queen’s “One Vision” – was deliberately hyperbolic, as he poked through a curtain wearing a cape and king’s crown, the word “RICKY” spelled out in KISS-style lights behind him.
His philosophy about the ridiculous nature of children’s nursery rhymes was also hilarious in an Oh-my-God-that-is-so-true manner.
On the boy who cried wolf: “What’s the moral there? That you shouldn’t tell a lie, right? No, it’s not. It’s that you shouldn’t tell a lie TWICE!”
And Humpty Dumpty: “All I ever got out of that one was that if you’re an egg, you shouldn’t sit on a wall…and really, sending all the kings’ horses to perform a medical procedure? How is that supposed to work?”
The highlight, though, was his reading of a genuine leaflet with suggestions about how gay men can avoid getting AIDS.
Look it up on YouTube – I’m sure it’s there.
As for Bon Jovi, the band sounded as crisp and vigorous as it did months ago in D.C. – even though the indefatigable Jon Bon Jovi started to look a tad worn by the set-closing “Bad Medicine” with a hunk of “Shout” threaded through.
(Here’s the set list for those interested in such things - http://www.bonjovi.com/bonjovi/blog.php?uf_item_id=8-105669&uf_system_id=0).
Say what you will about the derivative nature of their blue collar anthems – the band knocks itself out onstage with a show that rivals Springsteen’s in its simplicity and dedication to the music.
Besides, it was nice to finally be like everyone else in the crowd – spend $7 on a beer, grouse about it, but still have a great time singing along to “It’s My Life.”
Oh, but then my night got better when I discovered the legendary hot dog place, Gray’s Papaya. a few blocks from my hotel (if I ruled the world, I would make every establishment 24 hours, as many are in Manhattan).
Really, what better way to end a 17-hour day than with a delicious hot dog that has that rare, perfect snap to it, and a Styrofoam cup of papaya juice?
I know. I can’t believe I haven’t thrown up yet, either.
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