My recent obsession with a certain Canadian singer is well documented here (and here). Because I often find myself out of touch with television programming, I somehow missed the fact that the Grammy awards show was Sunday night.
I knew that Mr. Buble had been nominated for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance (for "Everything") and Best Traditional Pop Vocal Album (for "Call Me Irresponsible"), and just stumbled upon the fact that he won the latter. Yay, Michael!
I know that loving this album the way I do lumps me in with a bunch of middle-aged soccer moms. Well, I am middle-aged -- without the minivan and play dates. So I guess I accept that for what it is. I just don't feel like the MASMs of the 70s who cooed over Barry Manilow or the MASMs of the 80s who cooed over Julio Iglesias. Maybe it's because I'm equally enthralled by Trent Reznor, Dave Grohl, and Chris Cornell, among others. I'm not so sure that the above-mentioned MASMs were simultaneously digging on Robert Plant, Ian Gillan, or Ozzy Osbourne.
So, I bought tickets to see him in concert. Yes, indeedy-do, I did. Mmmhmm. Since leaving Seattle (where I regularly went to shows at Jazz Alley, along with the occasional arena-size concert), I haven't gone to all that many shows since returning to New England. *NSYNC, Diana Krall, John Mayer, the New Haven Jazz Festival with Dianne Reeves, the Spike Lee show last summer with Kurt Elling, Raul Midon, Terrance Blanchard, and Dee Dee Bridgewater, and then the Police reunion tour. I toyed with going to see Vienna Teng last year, but ended up sick.
In any event, I'll elbow my way through the slightly silver crowd to bask in the wonderfulness that is Michael Buble. By the way, to the unidentified photographer of the picture at top*... genius. Pure genius. Gentle readers, I suggest you listen to "It Had Better Be Tonight" or "I'm Your Man" and just stare at this picture the whole time. Ouch.
Not that this other photo* isn't marvelous. Ooo... marvelous. Oh dear, I'm drooling, aren't I? How indelicate of me. I'm certain both my husband and Emily will forgive me. I must wrap it up for the night. Sweet dreams.
* I found both of these pictures uncredited on the internet.