…and the New Kids on the Block are still… rocking it? That doesn’t sound right at all. They’re at least still dropping to their knees for passion-filled love ballads. And 20 years later, I’m old enough to get a good laugh out of it.

We started our fancy night out with a bite to eat as my mom debated with the waiter on the similarities between Lady Gaga and Madonna.

I ate for four and then we were off to see the BOYS.

… and apparently the only boys that attended the show were those singing. Wait! I do see two boys in the photo, and they’re hanging on to dear life to their girlfriends. But mostly it was a 30-something girlfest.

Hang on, I take that back…

I sat next to a feisty group of early 20-somethings and asked if they remember New Kids back in the day. They said, “No.. we’re here for their latest album. I mean, it’s not like we’re in our thirties.” And then they dry heaved after saying such a disgusting word.

Me? I was happy. I love being in that bracket.

So after laughing at my young compadres, I took a look at the stage. What the…

Exactly how far up are we? All I know is that I was short of breath and it was snowing.

And then out of nowhere a lady with tickets for better seats showed up and handed them out to our section.

Hot Dog!

These old fogies were excited!

Especially the two die-hards: my sister-in-law and mom. I was sandwiched between them and it was almost a scene out of a Night at the Roxbury. I was bumped all over the place by those dancing hips.

<—- D, getting close-ups

P, getting close-ups —->

  Me, in the middle, getting close-ups of them getting close-ups.

 I turned to see what L was up to…

But she was busy searching for a “I just watched two straight hours of boy bands and survived” support group.

I do have to say, though, that it was a lot of fun hanging with the girls and laughing at the boys.

Even Baby Collier had a good time. So much so that I wasn’t woken up at 3am for my nightly “snack” (which most people would call a meal.)