Still very bleary-eyed from the McCartney concert yesterday. We live a pretty short way from Yankee Stadium, only about 45 minutes via local bus and subway, but we didn't get home until well after midnight. He played two and a half hours, including two amazing guitar solos. A 69-year-old wunderkind, that bloke. In full, beautiful voice, with a tight band, terrific set list, special guest Billy Joel, appreciative and polite audience (we were in the "cheap" seats and didn't experience any rowdiness problems at all) of all ages, terribly overpriced merch none of which I bought... I'm going to be processing this experience for the rest of my life, I think. Absolutely best concert I've ever been to. And, I think, the last one I'll ever attend. Because nothing will ever top it.
Meanwhile, on the home front, Amy explores the laundry basket, or vice-versa:
And then finds herself in Robin's arms.
Photos offloaded from smartphone camera - none of my Macca photos came out well, we were too high up and the lights were too bright. I can haz more sleep now?
*(Friday Cat Blogging is ™ Kevin Drum)
Meanwhile, on the home front, Amy explores the laundry basket, or vice-versa:
And then finds herself in Robin's arms.
Photos offloaded from smartphone camera - none of my Macca photos came out well, we were too high up and the lights were too bright. I can haz more sleep now?
*(Friday Cat Blogging is ™ Kevin Drum)
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