concert in review: Justin!

I like to think I have decent taste in music. I mean, everyone likes to imagine they do, right? I like a pretty wide range of music, and I think I am open to a lot. However, there are definitely musical groups that make it into my rotation that I am not entirely proud of. I don't have a huge appetite for cheesy, but certain songs and/or "artists" (I don't mean to abuse the term) just hit the spot for me. I'm sorry! I like Kelly Clarkson! I like that annoyingly catchy Beyoncé song! And yes, sometimes I dance around in my room alone to Mariah Carey. I know, it's embarrassing, you're probably going to cancel your trips to The Heathernet, and I can't say I blame you. I am ashamed. I do draw the line at anything Fergalicious, but again, it's a thin line, and I don't even know if I could tell you where it starts or stops. [btw, sharing the Mariah Carey thing is huge for me. I hope you appreciate that and will keep that in mind to reconsider coming back to The Heathernet.]

Teetering somewhere along this fine line is Justin Timberlake.
You may remember him as the young gentleman currently bringing sexy back. On Tuesday night, I shared an intimate evening with Justin and approximately 18,000 screaming ladies in Anaheim, California. Never have I been in such a concentrated throng of women, much less ones so acutely focused on a singular goal: sleeping with Justin Timberlake.

I am assuming that most of his fan base present were grown-up versions of the N'SYNC fans Justin had accumulated at the beginning of the millenium. So the 11-year-old prepubescent in 1999 was now the supremely mature 19-year-old coed. Being that the show was in Anaheim, also consider the effect of the Orange-County-dynamic to the make up of the audience. And the additional info that Justin and Cameron have just called it quits. So, you have the 19-year-old OC girl who imagines she is going home with JT after the concert. From what I could tell, this was your typical audience member.

And while my girlfriends and I all obviously enjoyed the 2+ hours of JT time, surprisingly captivated by his experience there was my friend's boyfriend. I mean, here you are, in an arena normally home to hockey games and other demonstrations of masculine sportsmanship, now occupied by literally, thousands of fanatic, rabid young ladies. If I felt that the environment was all a bit surreal, how was he holding up? I tried to gauge if he looked uncomfortable or bored, but he looked engaged in the whole affair. I imagine it must have been like secret access to girl world, like sneaking into a gigantic sorority. And I think he enjoyed being privvy to all this; as you might surmise, the people watching was pretty rich.

And JT himself? I can tell you this: the man is talented. He can sing, he can move, he can play the electronic keyboard like a guitar! He was on stage bopping around for over 2 hours, sending out sexy vibes the entire time! I was exhausted and I was sitting down half the time. He played almost every conceivable song in his repertoire, except maybe his laudable classic, Dick in a Box. Given his wide range of skills and dedicated showmanship, I should have no problem owning up to the fact that I love him. And neither should my friend's boyfriend, or anyone else for that matter! In fact, maybe I can inspire others to own up to their particular taste for what they consider embarrassing tunes, because it happens to the best of us. So you secretly love R. Kelly? I may not be able to support your decision, but I can encourage you: go ahead and admit it.