We were lucky that an associate in my office agreed to take the Mondavi tickets from us, and my husband was able to score tix for the Berkeley show (I'll be in Las Vegas at an About.com conference), so Kris Kristofferson it was. Besides, Kristofferson is getting up there in age, he's 72, and Laurie Anderson is 61. Sometimes you've got to choose the older artist just in case he or she won't be around much longer, if you know what I mean.
I love the Crest. It's a great venue to see a concert, well laid out, small and intimate. Plus, because I am a subscriber, we got terrific third-row seats. I sat down next to a woman who asked me how I heard about the show. She seemed disappointed that it wasn't much advertised. Well, how did she get tickets for the third row, then, I asked. Turns out her son is in a movie with Kris Kristofferson. What a small world. Then she asked me how I knew any of his music since I was obviously in my 30s. LOL. I don't think she was wearing her glasses.
When I mentioned to a client yesterday that we were going to see Kristofferson, he asked me what kind of show it was. I had to laugh, saying he wasn't even born yet when A Star is Born was released in 1976, although it's likely my client caught it on cable somewhere. I read that Kristofferson once said that working with Barbra Streisand cured him of doing movies, but that didn't stop him from making the financial disaster, Heaven's Gate. It seemed strange to explain that Kristofferson is basically a writer, responsible for such songs as Me and Bobby McGee and Sunday Morning Coming Down, and that he performs his own songs, something he didn't do early on his career.
During the show, a young woman with long blonde hair rushed up to the stage, bent over, threw her hair to the floor and raised her arms in homage to Kristofferson, sort of a worshipping gesture reminiscent of Wayne's World. Then she blew kisses left and right and dashed back to her seat. That isolated act of admiration, I believe, expressed the sentiment of the entire audience.
Even though Kristofferson didn't hit very many notes on key, lost a bit of rhythm here and there, and abruptly ended every single song he performed, nobody cared. When he sang the last line of each song, he simply stopped playing guitar. There were no lingering guitar strokes, extra chords or stunning conclusion, sort of like his life, I imagine.