The scene this past weekend for Mr. and Mrs. Vandelay’s 10th wedding anniversary was Boston, Massachusetts, topped off with a night of dulcet tones by the great Neil Diamond. This would complete my trifecta of seeing geriatrics in concert at venues that are home to sports teams that I absolutely loathe. We’d be joined by friends, Joe and Lisa. The concert itself was good…not great. It is Neil Diamond so there’s certainly a cheese factor in play but if you don’t take yourself too seriously, it’s kinda hard not to have fun. As you can see from that photo above, the crowd was old. Really old. Like Craig old. This pretty much squashed the possibility of getting stoned which really seemed like an obvious necessity to us for a Neil Diamond concert and every time I’m watching a Red Sox game and someone made a catch in deep right center field I could have remembered the time I smoked a joint in that very spot. Unfortunately, nobody was so much as drinking so we worked under the presumption that Joe pulling a joint out of his balls wouldn’t have gone over so well.
Without further ado, a pictorial review…
That’s a view of the World Trade Centah and Bawston Harbah from our room at the Seapawt Hotel which I’d have to highly recommend if you’re a fan of really good service. They also don’t let you tip which was surprisingly refreshing. Not that people don’t deserve tips but the pressure of constantly trying to figure out whom and how much can be a burden. I don't know...maybe I'm just an asshole.
No…I would never pay $817.97 per seat to a Neil Diamond concert or any concert and even if I had the will, I wouldn’t have the resources. If any of you are ever fortunate enough to have a wealthy friend that just likes to give you shit, here’s some advice…swallow your pride and be really grateful. Also, you may notice that these concert pictures aren’t of the highest quality. That’s because they were taken with a zoomless, flashless Iphone. You’ll notice on the ticket, it distinctly reads “NO CAMERA/VIDEO/RECORDERS.” Well silly me, I thought this meant that you couldn’t bring a camera; however the place was loaded with real cameras and flashes going off all over the place. You see, Massholes really don’t concern themselves with trivial little matters such as you know… rules. Now, I know I guess.
With such high profile seats, I saw an opportunity to do a little advertising, and being the savvy businessman that I am…I took it.
Given the option between hanging out in the harbor area for food and drinks or just hopping in a cab and heading over to Fenway and hitting one of the establishments surrounding the park, we chose the latter. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Long waits…no chance of sitting down anywhere or getting a waitress. Just crowds. Four people all made that decision too. It didn’t occur to one of us to just hang and avoid chaos. That fat Masshole is giving me the “You better not be taking a picture of me and posting it on the internet, calling me a fat Masshole” look. That’s what you get, motherfucker.
Mrs. Vandelay fetching us some beers in the back of a seedy Tequila bar across the street from Fenway that we were lured into by the bouncers telling us there was seating for food. They lied. We waited a half hour for a waitress until we asked a waitress and she told us it would be at least another half hour. That sucked. As you can see, they did have a Neil Diamond concert from like 1984 on the widescreens though.
An extremely indignant Joe having to settle for a steak sandwich on the street after a series of wrong decisions lead to him being completely famished. Joe's the only person you see in that picture under 60 years old. The sandwich had huge chunks of steak that were impossible to consume which almost led to him walking back over and throwing the sandwich in the guy’s face. He didn’t follow through but how awesome would it have been to capture that picture? It was still a good weekend for Joe though, who went from Crue Fest on Friday night, to Diamond on Saturday. How’s that for variety? This actually paled in comparision to the weekend prior, when he had his first threesome.
GREEN FACKIN’ MONSTAH!!!
A not so panoramic view of 39,000 Massholes. Somebody must have told Neil that Massholes really love Sweet Caroline because he did that song three times; complete with the improvised lyric…We fill it up with only thirty-eight thousand six hundred and forty-two. Everyone seemed to get a kick out of that.
I learned that it’s really hard to take a picture of someone with an Iphone when they have huge lights behind them without their head coming out like it’s an actual light.
Diamond rocking out on the six string. Me and Joe decided that he’s banging all three of his back-up singers using the impenetrable logic stream that if we were Neil Diamond, we’d be banging all three of our back-up singers.
I know it’s a bit cliché, but nobody has ever reminded me of my drunk uncle quite the way this cat did. The jury’s still out on whether or not he goes home every night, pours himself a glass of wine, looks in his mirror and says, “I’m Neil Diamond. I am Neil Fucking Diamond!” I say no. Joe says yes. I did get shushed while having this conversation though which may make me the only person that’s ever been scolded for talking too loud in the third row of a rock concert. I then spent the next 15 minutes contemplating whether or not I’d get thrown out if I tapped that witch on the shoulder and told her the next time she turns around and opens her mouth I’m gonna rip out her fucking esophagus. Wisely refrained.
I have no idea how to make my hand look like a butt. We need to put this on the agenda at the next AofG Company Meeting. That Masswhore in the white shirt is the one that shushed me.
When you think of Neil Diamond and Fenway Park, you think of Vandelay Industries and this makes you happy, so buy some latex or something.
Obviously this picture came out awful but it’s Neil, sitting at a restaurant table with a glass of wine, singing You Don’t Bring Me Flowers with one of his back-up singers, which is more fun when you’ve concluded that they’re sleeping together.
This is Joe desperately trying to seal the deal on the elusive “Gilf Threesome” immediately after the show. Nothing too eventful from here on out though. My wife inexplicably went on some weird anti-semitic tirade on the cab ride home which is always fun. Dude sang a few songs off of his new album and I think one of them may have been about God or him being a man of faith. I wasn’t really listening but she decided that if she’s paying $800 a ticket (which she didn’t) she shouldn’t have to listen to Neil Diamond preach to her all night and plus, he’s not even Christian. So I have no idea where she got the idea that Jewish = Atheist and that a Jew couldn’t have faith but you know…alcohol. We spent like 5 minutes arguing this when Lisa implied that we may be offending the cab driver which seemed unlikely but when I asked him if he was Jewish, he replied, “Who me? Sort of.” No idea what that means but it was enough to make it a bit awkward. I think he was just fucking with us though because he looked to be of a descent that wasn’t very fond of our Hebrew friends at all.
“I’m Art Vandelay. I am Art Fucking Vandelay!”