It looks like I beat everyone. That's a dubious distinction ;) They all have lives, I drive home to write about it ;) No seriously, they're still driving.
Allow me then, on the close of this most eventful Canada Day in Central Park, to spin a tale or two, certain that my writing will be augmented by the rest of the gang when they make it home to their various homes in DC, Montreal, and North Carolina.
First of all, you should know that I elected to take an (American) Hip neophyte with me. He's a friend who wishes it was more. This is dangerous territory already. He studies the evolutionary history of tapirs and rhinoceri (not the right plural, but whatever).  He's extremely personable, funny and smart. I suppose, in time, he could wear me down. But not today.
We drive to Princeton, which is always great in and of itself. Einstein hung out here! And they actually have an Ivory Tower! We then hop on the train to Manhattan. 13 bucks for a round trip. I've spent more money on nailpolish. The train to Manhattan is clearly the better bargain.
And then we're in Times Square, bedazzled in the bright summer sun by electronic signs advertising The Lion King (still). When what to my wondering eyes should appear? But a huge sign spelling out:
"Happy Canada Day! July 1!"
Well this is clearly going to be Quite a Day.
We arrive at Central Park and I am on the look-out for Rob Bertrand and Silirat, the chick magnet with reverse polarity (Livi, that cracked me up). We get to the stage area and there's a line to get in. I notice there's a cute blonde boy spending far too much time looking at me. It's my big straw hat I figure -- that was his only clue. I finally yell into the crowd: "Hey! Are you Rob?" He smiles at me. (So do nine other guys named Rob.) But I only have eyes for him.
So. Rob. Lovelier than you might imagine for all the self-deprecating humour he sends our way. Tall. Blonde. And more curls left than he has led us to believe. He's charming and funny. Everyone gets along with him easily and well.
Now to Silirat. There is a chip on (both) his (large, broad) shoulders and a cultivated smugness in the way he holds his mouth.  As The Far Side cartoon reads: "Here's how nature warns us to stay away." He has worked at a "don't fuck with me" look for so long it's no wonder he's not getting
laid (or so he claims). I notice, however, that when he occasionally removes his dark glasses he has the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. (I think, if only I had more energy, time and patience... maybe I can get him to smile.)
Luckily there are chocolate chip cookies and lots of beer. Apparently you can't drink beer inside the stage area unless you've purchased it there, so you have to consume the pre-purchased stuff outside first. Boys draped in Canadian flags arrive and we wonder about the wisdom of having them drink,
in thirty minutes, the amount of beer they had planned to consume over the course of a five-hour show.
While we wait, the organisers congratulate us Canadians on our fine country and hand out mini Canadian flags. There is no singing of the anthem as yet, but things look like they could get bad. We henhousers get even more nervous. How are we going to explain this rising nationalism back home?
Maybe, we wonder, a little patriotism is ok on Canada Day, in New York City. But who knows where it will go. Good thing we brought the home-made chocolate chip cookies. If you can get Silirat to eat one, he gets a little smile. (Victory is mine... :)
Interesting note: We haven't heard from Silirat around these parts for a couple of months now, because he's been having some technical difficulties of a terribly ironic sort. It appears he can read all our blather but he can't send any ascerbic, dry little responses back. He's stuck in a sort of personally- designed henhouse hell. He's stuck there right now as he reads this, in fact.
Now I have a little smile ;)
At some point my dear and oldest Hip friends, the very pregnant Julie and her hubbie Tracy arrive from DC (yes, he's the boy named Sue that Brian used to hit on all the time :) They've driven up with Naomi, who's still cute as a button, and her ex-husband, Alan, the taping god (yes, we all know now that they hang out together way too much for a divorced couple, but they still know how to have a good time at a Hip concert :) -- Alan, don't forget to email me and we'll set something up for the Philly show).
Finally the gates are opened. It's a small stage area and Rob manages to run ahead and throw his lanky frame across a number of chairs in the fifth row. We owe him big-time. Rob. I owe you.
On stage, Hip roadie extraordinaire Billy Ray, is setting up. However, I notice that without his cowboy hat he has an overly-long forehead. I am terribly disappointed by this. I yell out an explanation of my disappointment to Naomi. Unfortunately I am overheard (easily) by a sweet boy in front of me who has possibly the longest forehead I've ever seen (even longer than Billy Ray's). He laughs at me and explains that he's proud of his long forehead. I laugh back and inside I die a thousand deaths.
Finally Great Big Sea comes on stage and gets us all excited with a rousing opening number about riding donkeys. I explain to my friend that this is not a typical Canadian song. Nevertheless we all sing along and have a great time.
At some point Monsieur Eric Leduc and his francophone friends arrive. I yell out -- "Eric! It's Shari!" He looks puzzled. I'm stumped for a moment. Who am I again? Sharyn? PhQ? surely not Episteme,that horrible, hastily-picked moniker chosen in a rushed moment when all my other choices
were taken... But "episteme" is what rings a bell and he gives me a warm hello. He and I attempt to kiss on both cheeks, but I go the wrong way first and my big hat pokes him in the eye. We make up for it later. Hatless ;)
(This latter condition was largely the fault of Rob, who commandeered my hat midway throught the afternoon. It's kind of a broad-brimmed "Breakfast at Tiffany's" number. It suited him.  Don't worry, there will be many photos. I was given his sweat-shirt in exchange. Dramatically draping the sweatshirt over my head, I then threw the sleeves around my neck.  With my sunglasses on I felt like Jackie O, hiding out from the press. However, the Toronto boys behind me assured me, in no uncertain terms, that I looked more like Mrs. Ingalls from "Little House on the Prairie." Excellent.)
Next, Jeff Healy takes the stage. He still rocks. But his set is overly long. We're getting impatient. Rob swears Jeff's doing this to be annoying. But I'm pretty sure that Jeff's being given instructions by the Hip to take his time. Either way it's annoying.
Oh wait. Annoying. Hah. Nothing compares to what happens next. After the Jeff Healy Band leaves the stage we are treated to a guy named, get this, Big Hose John, who stands on stage with... a big hose. And we are told by a representative of the Canadian Consulate (proud sponsors of this event)
that if we cheer really loudly, John will spray in our direction and cool the masses.
Sounds like fun! We hurrily put away our cameras and cheer loudly for a refreshing treat.
Well. The first five minutes were kinda fun. The next twenty however, got kind of grating... Maybe he was just trying to make sure there wasn't a dry camera in the place. Maybe he just had a thing for Rob. Maybe I should have been sitting somewhere else... But no matter the explanation, we got
fucking SOAKED. And just when you dried your sunglasses, face and hair from the last dousing, he'd come again.
Stop the insanity!
I actually was able, with little effort, to get a "John sucks" cheer going. The rat was drowned. We were all shivering, no longer refreshed but soaking and miserable. BUT HE KEPT ON SPRAYING.
For the love of god, stop with the water! I yelled.
Finally, the crowd rushed into a spontaneous rendition of Oh Canada! Anything to get John to stop. Fuck!
He finally ran out of water and we fell exhausted into our (wet) seats, surveying the damage, blowing our noses, wiping our eyes. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
I was barely organised again when Rob yelled out -- "They're here!" I leapt up to stand on my chair, and

there he is.

With the by-now trademark three-piece, cinammon-brown suit. And those large,beautiful hands.

(The better to rip out your heart with).

Armed with skill and grace, too.

He said I'm tragically hip!
Three beats of music, just three... and his shirt is untucked and his pants are falling down.
Ok. I have to stop here. No really, that's what he said.  I have to stop here, 'cos I need a belt. Can someone get me a belt?
And someone throws him a belt! Gord carefully threads it through his belt-loops, muttering the whole time about only needing a size 32...
Just for fun let me share with you a brief quote from my last Hip review, from DC last year. I am not making this up. Plus ce que change. You'd think he'd have figured out the pants problem by now. Here, then, from May 15, 1999:

>OK, back to the show. Out comes Gord. Tall. Lanky. Healthy-looking. Great
>brown suede shoes.
>
>He waves hello, and does a little dance and immediately his shirt is
>completely untucked and the whole pants fiasco starts.
>
>I mean immediately.

Too much, eh?

Gord. Baby.

Get a belt.

Ok, back to the future.

After Grace, I think we get My Music at Work, followed by Lake Fever.
Before the latter, Gord intones "First the sex, then the story, first the sex, then the story". And I am brought back immediately to the first time I heard that song in early January, sitting next to Brian, at his computer, listening to some of Alan's great recording work from the NYE show. And I also remember writing to the henhouse about that same moment of coital fury, describing the oh-so-appropriate erection (his or mine? I forget) that accompanied our listen to Lake Fever. First the sex, then the story (or was it the other way around?) First the sex.

Then the story.

(Hmmm... Should I have labeled that "chat"?)

Oh and Drew! Guess what? Gord introduced one of the songs (but not Putting Down, I'm pretty sure) with "Margaret Atwood wrote this one" (!) I've been reading through Bluebeard's Egg ever since you mentioned the Putting Down reference but I'm still waiting for your literary analysis. Yes there's an egg in Atwood's story. But no breasts that I could see. Am I being tooliteral? Help!
Next, in no particular order we got:
Tiger the Lion
Putting Down
Fully Completely
The Completists
Poets
Fireworks
Flamenco!

"This is dedicated to all you New Yorkers out there! All of you who are so fascinated by Canadian culture. Yup. Canadian culture. Wait. Is this it? No? Is that it?" He is smiling as he says this.

Escape

"You always think you have enough time. You've got enough time. But then the nanoseconds pass... and he's gone..." That one was hard for me to take... It's hard to take. It's hard to know what to do with information like that, when you're so far away...

100th Meridian
Gord's rant was hard to decipher but I swear to god he brought up Laminar Flow again, I swear to god. Dolphins and laminar flow. Brian. He must have loved the technical details. Or maybe that was just me. Then at some point I heard him scream "It's easier to hold a fish than your attention!" Ack!
how perfect is that on about seven hundred different levels?

They only did one encore (it was a free show, so I guess we can't complain-- did I mention we were all soaking up love in the sun in Central Park, eating chocolate chip cookies, making new friends and listening to the Hip? For free? Mmmm. Life is pretty good.)

It was Nautical Disaster.

"We're going to leave you squirming in the water now... just like the British did." Ouch.

And then that was it.
C'est tout.
And they left the stage.
And then there were none.
Just the henhouse gang, for a brief moment.
Ok and some other people.
This part is always hard.
Everything ends so quickly.
There are goodbyes.
And more warm hugs and kisses. Three in fact.
He was counting his lucky stars.
And I wonder if he had more self-confidence. If I had been alone. If he had more self-confidence. If he had been up for it. If I wasn't so tired...
Guess I'm too slow. Guess he's too slow.
...It's not like we were best of friends.
And. So.
Back on the train.
With the newly converted Hip fan. He had an amazing time. So did I. We quietly gathered our thoughts... about musical influences, and Kate Fenner and the notion of celebrity...

And lots of other things that will have to wait for another day.

It is late.
And this is already long.
Hope you enjoyed it.
Sweet dreams to you all.
Avec amour,

S.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
new york, new york... hell of a town, really. i had never been. until yesterday, that is. myself and 4 friends hit the road outta buffalo around 4:30 am. we arrived at newark airport sometime after that, i couldn't really say, all concept of time has left me...took a shuttle into the city, right to central park. had i driven in, i would have shot someone. do any of you guys live there? if so, how do you get anywhere in a car??? oh, well...we got in just in time for great big sea, and i managed to get close to the front. gbs...good set, too short, but hey, what can ya do. jeff healy band blew me away, i had never seen them or really heard anything before. but, as episteme wrote, it was extremely frustrating every time you thought they were done and they'd do another song.i decided before all this madness
started that instead of looking around big guys shoulders the whole day, i was gonna get a good spot and keep it. i actually managed to do this. center stage, 2nd row. not too shabby. episteme gave a really good review, i can only add a few things...
gord almost hit himself in the face with his broken guitar string during lake fever...they all seemed really happy to playing new stuff..even paul looked like he was havin fun...flamenco was beautiful with kate singing. i had forgotten that she was on stage, and so when i heard a female voice, i was like, "man, how is gord doing that?":)
...i could see alan doyle, from gbs, watching from behind the stage, watching gord writhing and sweating profusely and it just seemed like he was sitting there saying to himself, "what the hell is the deal with this guy???"and "how can i learn to do that?"

anyways here's the setlist, in order:

grace, too
mm@w
gift shop
puttin down
escape
tiger the lion
fully
lake fever
poets
flamenco
courage
completists
ABAC
fireworks
hundredth
__________
nautical

oh, yeah, and, after it was all over, we were behind the stage using the payphone, and one by one, every band member except gord d.walked right by me. i was too dumbstruck to say anything, and there was no film in my camera, so i watched them go. sadly. hmmm....and now for the bad stuff. there was of course, some asshole, who was pushing us into the barrier as soon as the hip went on. he got me with an entire cup of beer, most of it ending up on my shirt. and i  just got in,
so i can still smell it.
but that's to be expected. then there were a couple more of these assholes behind me at different points in the show. but that i can deal with. if i'm gonna be up front, i gotta realize. and i do. what i didn't expect was the drunken girls barreling through, asking everyone if they were canadian. if not they'd push right past you b/c they "deserved" to be closer, b/c they were canadian. and so are the hip. what the fuck?!?!? i never really got into any of those nationalism discussions, but i see now, firsthand, where some of you were coming from. where in the hell did these little brats get off telling people that they were more/less deserving to watch a band based on their nationality? arghhh...
all right, thats it. then we got some new york pizza, walked 30 blocks to get a bus to the airport, and proceeded to get horribly horribly lost for 3 hours in, of all places, new jersey! but we finally got back on track, made it home, all is well...
first impressions of new york:

i still don't think it's real.
everything sparkles and shines.
it looks like daytime on broadway at 10 pm.
there's a lot of interesting people.
there's lots of people.
the pizza isn't anything spectacular. at least where i went.

all right. it's been fun.i'm going to sleep forever. nice knowing you all.

meghan
========================================================
I'm calling it "The Weekend of Seeing Red." The sunburned skin and the flags,
flags, flags waving everywhere ("Are you Canadian by any chance?"), the colour
of my eyes from staring at concrete for 7 or so hours today and the second-hand
pot smoke.

I won't post setlists or give song by song comments from the three nights,
because that's all been done pretty well by people with less foggy minds than
mine currently is. But I will post impressions, because it all feels like some
sort of Van Gogh painting.

First off, the people... There's an incredible feeling behind driving a few
hundred miles knowing that faces old and new await you to share the moments
with. People you can look over to in the middle of a Gord moment ("dinner!") and
share it with. I won't name any of you by name (chicken), because you know who
you are and some of you will just rag on me if I tried (and I respect that, I
truly do). But it's this sharing that makes these concerts worth driving to,
worth the massive sleep deprivation, worth the wear and tear on my poor battered
car, and worth the "You're going to ANOTHER hip show?" remarks. "It's true. It's
you. It's really you." The pre and post show gatherings are often as
entertaining as the shows themselves (well, maybe not when that bastard Leduc is
there... ;)) And it's nice to have an excuse to plan roadtrips to strange and
exotic cities you could only ever dream of visiting... Like Chicoutimi or
Providence. Names of cities that beam excitement and intrigu!
e. It goes so far beyond what Amit and I hoped to get out of this list when he
came up with the idea to start it up. (Of course, we were also hoping for
Johnny's leftovers and free tickets... Dare to dream.)

All in all, it's basically just nice to know that you're not the only insane
one. ("You've seen 29 shows?!?") At least *I'm* not taking pictures of their
roadies... Well, at least not yet.

The band... The nicest bunch of guys. As Livi mentioned, we met them after
Thursday's show and at least exchanged pleasantries with them all.

This morning, I was sitting on a bench in Central Park with a horrible magazine
Sili bought and a notepad and pen, jotting down whatever poetic things entered
my head (not surprisingly, there were few). Various joggers, cyclists, and other
assorted very happy-looking people were out enjoying a beautiful New York City
morning (most of them looking like they either just got some or were about to...
those bastards!). At one point I looked up from whatever I was putting to paper
and noticed that Gord Sinclair was standing not 10 feet in front of me talking
with a couple of friends, taking a break during a morning jog. At first I
thought I must be hungover and hallucinating, but then I realized I didn't drink
the night before. I wasn't going to say anything, because it was his day off and
he was with friends. But his friends jogged off in another direction, so I
quickly and not too loudly thanked him for the wonderful show he and the boys
put on a few hundred feet away the night be!
fore (I mean, he just happened to look over at me as he started jogging, how
could I not say anything?). He smiled and thanked me and then continued on his
way. A nice way to cap off a lovely visit to New York. (Hmmm... that's the 3rd
time I've talked to him in the last 2 weeks, and all in different cities... He's
probably thinking of adding me to "the list".)

* The shows... Somerville Theatre has just about the best acoustics. A
wonderfully-small venue and my 2nd and 3rd row balcony seats offered incredible
views of the procedings, despite the humongous idiot sitting behind me the first
night (no, Phil was sitting BESIDE me). The music just poured over you in waves.
Quite wonderful. Gord D. was a bit restrained on Thursday. He barely did any
ranting at all, perhaps concentrating more on the harmonies in acknowledgement
of the acoustics (or, perhaps, to borrow from one unfinished piece, because his
voice could tinkle like a chandelier). Whatever the reason, it was by far the
most reserved of the 3 nights. Any doubts, however, as to whether he could still
recite and incite disappeared the next two shows.

The band was tight. The 1st night was notable almost as much with what they
didn't play as what they did... NO New Orleans, Grace, Century, or Meridian. The
one thing that really annoyed me about Hip shows was that you knew that these
songs would be played. Because the band seemed to think they HAD to be played.
This augers well. There was a notable lack of pre-Fully songs (Bones was played
on Thursday, that's it out of the three shows). I hope some are resurrected in
the weeks to come, especially some of the songs that Chris and Kate could really
add to (Long Time Running, Midnight, Bring it All Back, etc.). Time's tellin' on
that one. When they didn't bust out NOIS on the second night, I was even
happier. They did pick weird songs to end both shows with (Planet and
Completists), but I won't complain. No sirree, Bob. Hearing Scared, Pigeon
Camera (whoo!!!), Scared and Wheat Kings with the extra Chris and Kate layers
were definite moments. Yeah, they are all slower songs. They!
're just such good sing-alongs, what can I say? They all felt so fresh and
exciting.

Of the new songs, I haven't been the only one to say that TTL is a whole whack
better live than on the album. I just wish they substituted another new song on
one of the nights so I could hear it (4 shows, still waiting to hear Pines and
Bear). Sharks was awesome (what's up with the drum track? Johnny barely was
playing anything for a good part of the song... Comments anyone?). Honey was
decent. The people who love the song on the album loved it live as well. I'm
indifferent to both versions. Maybe a bootleg will steer me right. Completists
seems a bit too... busy... at the moment. The way they played it in Montreal
gave me goosebumps on top of my goosebumps. Regardless, it still rocked. Chris's
added touches to Putting Down in Somerville were magical.

Central Park? The perfectly sunny day; the great line-up (Jeff Healey, you
time-consuming bastard!); the cool people; the wonderful 4th row vantage point
for everyone(thank you, lanky frame!); the shared memories; that sexy Tracy with
the pouty lips and flowing locks of curls (hahaha); the dim possibility of the
chairs supporting our collective weight for the entire show; the strange and
embarrasing photo ops ("What's one more statue grope gonna do to your rep?");
the sharing of anecdotes from previous shows ("I can fit two in my ass!"); the
wise-ass comments about other obnoxious fans ("I want to be your whiee whiee
whiee whiiee???"); Words won't do justice to any of it.

Chris and Kate... There are times when they make it through the wall of sound
and it's beautiful. And that's usually, as noted by others, during the slower
songs. Chris has the chops on that organ, and on songs like Lake Fever and
Giftshop the songs are allowed to breathe in different ways. But on too many of
the harder songs, it's lost almost as much as Gord D.'s acoustic guitar (Phil on
Friday, "Ohmygod, I hear it!"). Kate's voice is wonderful as well. Her lead
vocals during Flamenco are stunning and definite crowd favourites. Her backup on
Toronto 4 and Scared were spine-tingling. But too often they're lost.

Bootlegs... I exchanged emails with a few people who were taping the Boston
shows. One guy videotaped both nights (1st from back of floor, 2nd from 1st row
balcony), one guy videod the 2nd night only (from 2nd row), and one guy who
dat'd the 2nd night from 1st row balcony. I'll let the proper people know about
all when there's something to report. Sweet versions will be treed (so please no
emails... it'll get out if it's good).

I'm still singing along. F***ing fabulous weekend. Burlington is only 5 weeks
away...

I've quickly scanned everyone's comments from the weekend, but haven't had a
chance to actually read them. My increasingly-heavy eyelids tell me that is a
task for another day.

Rob
P.S. Yes, I survived kneeboarding in (mostly) one piece.
===========================================================
Not much to add to Shari's lengthy review of the day, but a few notes...

First, thanks again for everything, Tracy and Julie!! Julie must be a devoted Hip fan to sit in the heat for hours while 8 months pregnant.
It was great seeing everyone again.  That is definitely the best part of the Henhouse--meeting great people with this common bond, this ADDICTION to a band.  My addiction gets worse every day, and the "normal" people in my life just don't get it.  Thank goodness for you all!!!  At least if I'm insane, I have company.
The show itself was wonderful of course.  Although too short, but I'm not complaining!  It was free, and seeing the Hip in person doing absolutely anything for any amount of time has to be wonderful.  We were a few rows back so the whole group of us could sit together. I was surprised much of the crowd didn't recognize the new songs!!!  I just figured everyone had the new CD and listened to it all day every day like me.  I mean, who wouldn't???  The new stuff was the best.  I loved it all.  I couldn't see a whole lot from where I was standing, though, so I missed most of the visuals such as the belt exchange.  I wondered what Gord was talking about, but that's normal.  Being 5'2", all I
could see was one band member.  And that's just because I asked someone to switch chairs and I could see him when the people in the three rows in front of me all swayed together in the same direction, leaving a small path for my eyes to follow.  This is why I totally forgot about Chris and Kate.  Until Flamenco. Then, out of nowhere, was this female voice!! It actually startled me to the point where I let out a small scream!  Yes, I'm easily startled.  Perhaps Mark will eventually bring the 2 of them more into the mix of things.  Or not.  I enjoyed her voice the couple of times I heard it.  I didn't hear him until I listened to Alan's recording in the car on the way home.
Okay, I must admit this show will stand out most in my mind because of Big Hose John.  I think I was saying his name in my sleep last night.  Which is pretty funny in itself, but in the end I detested him and his big hose too.  I thought there was no way anyone else would mention him, and died laughing when I read Shari's post!! (By the way, it was funny to note that Shari, miss "I carry three types of condoms in my bag", was covered in clothing from head to toe!!! What were you thinking?  I had my bathing suit on!!) Yes, Big Hose John was quite the nightmare that wouldn't end.  The first couple of times I tried to be a good sport.  By the end, I was wetter than I was when I'd stepped out of the shower that morning. I was not as polite as the guys behind us chanting for John to go away.  My own chant contained obscenities. But looking back, it was really hysterical.  Guess you had to be there.

Naomi
============================================================
Hi
Just got back from NYC - wow what a great time. I'll skip the pregame and get straight to the show.

Setlist in order:
Grace
MM@W
Giftshop
Putting down
Escape
Tiger
Fully
Fever
Poets
Flamenco
Courage
Completists
ABAC
Fireworks
100th
Encore:
Nautical
Three songs were on the list but not played: Freak, Honey, and Bobcaygeon. Not the greatest setlist - only 16 songs - and nothing from the first three albums.
Check this out, we were fifteen feet left of the stage right up front and about three songs in my buddies girlfriend gets three out of the eleven of us wrist bands for backstage access. WOW.
I am actually back stage with the Hip!!!!!
What a cool perspective.
I see some people up on the stage just out of the audiences view and decide to go up.
Just as my foot hits the stage POW Tiger The Lion starts. Damn it was great being right up there and feeling the energy.
I taped the show but I was walking around so much backstage that the sound may be bad.
Anyway - the show ends and we are still backstage.
We wait around for a little while as all the members are right there drinking Heinekin?sp?
I have met everyone a couple of times before - but this time is the first I got to meet Johnny - and he is such a nice person (for lack of a better term) I got everyone to sign the tour posters they were selling and the setlist.
(The setlist thanx to Chris Brown - but thats a different story)
Gord Downie asked my name and then crossed out New York on the setlist and put Dana's Town. Then when he signed the poster and since it had a picture of the tree from the new album he put "Dana's tree - just add water"
All of the sudden my cell phone rings and it is my girlfriend back at the hotel - so what do I do? Of course - I hand Gordie the phone and I tell him it is my Girlfriend Melanie.
He then talks to her and says something like "Hi Melanie. It's Gord. Dana and I are here in New York City and we are fine. We will be having a good time tonite, tonite, tonite. We will be alright, alright, alright." He almost made it sound like a poem.
Damn what a great time.
Two shows down and at least two shows to go.(Until they finally announce the Canadian dates.
============================================================

Yep, I Saw the Hip in Central Park on Canada Day.  I was third row from the stage, on Bobby's side.  Sorry I didn't catch you there Ren. Anyway I don't know if it was the mood I was in, the small size of the venue, or the $4 beers I drank, but this concert was AMAZING.  I think it's the best I've seen them, compared to the four other times.

During Grace Too Gord was ranting about needing something to hold up his pants.  He was demanding a belt.  Just as I reached down to unbuckle mine, somebody else through their's onstage.  Gord picked it up and put it on, pausing to comment on this size of it: "What is this, a size 30?  Go back to Canada and get a waistline!"  He was ranting throughout the whole show, and this time I could actually make out what he was saying!

Kate was amazing and I really like her as an addition.  Her and Gord turned Flamenco into a duet and it has never sounded so good.  Can't say that I could hear Chris though...

Even the roadies, sound guys, and security people were getting into the show.  You know it's a good band when even the 250 pound security guys are groovin.

After the show lots of people stayed around to pillage whatever they could get off the stage.  Some guys almost tricked one security guard into handing over the bananna (maybe they just wanted to see if it made a sound).

Anyway, I cannot describe to you how great it was to be a few feet from the world's greatest band, behind the backdrop of the city skyline, surrounded by such dedicated and well behaved fans.

Andrew