Bells Toll on Rock & Roll — We HEART Ryan
The following words were written for Ryan Adams and H-heads everywhere. These are letters — confessions? — to each from the seventh row of Ryan's show at Claremont's Bridges Auditorium, penned by yours truly, the Sister's Bell . . .
Dear Ryan,
Well, we finally got the time, so we're sitting down to write you a letter. After worshipping your golden hand (yep, you've got the Midas touch) we can now cross that Penny Lane fantasy off our lengthy list of rock-dos-and-don'ts. Do view Ryan from seventh row center, if not stage left. Do lose voices from loud woo-hooing-bouts-of-Ryan-joy (when we say l-u-v, you better believe us, L-U-V). Don't smash-dance in aisle, blocking the collective H-head view while repeat-requesting "Come Pick Me Up" — some know nothing of concert etiquette and these people are called rubberneckers, according to your dotcom dictionary.
That's right, we caught the prom at Claremont's Bridges Auditorium last Tuesday and have to say the whole she-bang was a real ryder (C-speak: class gig). Not too many things can put a damper on a night with your Cardinals, and, if those walls in Bridges could talk, we wonder to ourselves if they'd be too choked up—with tears of gold, of course. 'Cause — oh our souls — you were just that good. And there it is.
Two hearts,
Your sweet lil' gals
Dear H-heads,
So when all the lights turned after burn, exposing five Cardinals and a backdrop straight from Cold Roses' liner notes, we knew this was it — Ryan-time. Hallelujah, mockingbirds sing. We'd counted the seconds-till-him for nearly thirty days (2,592,000 ticks) and, after settling his Red Bull and ashtray, he finally spooned us a much-needed dose of Jacksonville city nights and it went down like sweet rock 'n' roll elixir. He was chesty and chatty but still full-force, bending-backwards with the right notes on opener "Goodnight Rose."
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