We've Got the Biggest...

Balls of them all.

Because we took our 12 year old to see AC/DC.

Honestly, and I've been thinking about it, I don't recall ever having more fun at a concert. I don't know if it was just that awesome (I suspect it was) or if it's because it was such an amazing bonding experience for us to have with our daughter.

Some highlights:

They started out with a little cartoon video that was really quite good. Then it became kind of overtly sexual (I know! They're usually such masters of subtlety! There was no way I could have anticipated!) and I got a little uncomfortable. Lea was uncomfortable too (between her parents? really?), so that made me feel a little better.

They came out ON and stayed on all night. I mean they put on a SHOW! Watching the stage, I completely forgot how old these guys are (watching the screen, I was pretty much forced to remember). And by the way - does anyone know what Angus Young is on and where I could get some? I mean, the dude is 53 and he just didn't slow down once. It felt like watching someone 1/3 his age. No lie.

When he did his traditional strip tease, Lea turned to me and said, "he's so bony!" At one point she high-fived me. Maybe that was a little wrong... Later, when we could hear a little bit, I said, "I'm sorry your first strip tease was old and bony." Tom added, "It really has nothing to do with age. All guys look like that with their shirts off. It's really not worth pursuing." Tom is a good dad.

At one point early on, Lea did have to ask, "what smells weird?" I'm sure I don't have to tell any of you... Apparently Officer Batman (Our local D.A.R.E. instructor) neglected that particular lesson. Now she knows.

When a whacked out kid was acid-dancing and climbing on the railing, she really couldn't enjoy the concert until security took him out.

Mullet count stood at a mere 2. But they were quite spectacular! Quality over quantity! I expected more. Maybe I wasn't looking hard enough.

The music was, as I believe I've already stated, nothing short of amazing. It just never slowed down. I think the memory of triple fist-pumping (Done!Dirt!Cheap!) in unison with my husband and daughter is one I'll cherish for a long time. Something I'll pull out and keep warm with next time Lea decides I'm too horrible for words.

I head banged. And I screamed. TOM danced, for Pete's sake. (Those of you who know him know that doesn't happen just every day.) He didn't head bang. But he should have, cause with his mane, it would've been glorious.

And here's a bit some of you may not understand (and some of you almost undoubtedly will): I did not, for one second, worry about the people behind me having to look at my fat ass. In the past, I have seriously worried about that. People paid good money for this show, I don't want to ruin it for them by making them look at my posterior. So I'd sit, or lean, or stand very very still. Not tonight. My fat ass paid as much for its ticket as any perky ass paid for its. It had just as much right to not only be there, but to dance. FTW.

I'm hoping Tom - or someone - posts a more musical review. I am ridiculously unqualified to do so, so I won't attempt. I can just tell you that I had more fun than ought to be legal. We had both balked at the ticket price, and we both agreed that we'd gotten every penny's worth and then some. During the guitar solo in 'Back in Black' I turned to Lea and said, "Your concert going experiences may never get better than this." She responded, "Yeah, we've just set the bar pretty high."

Indeed.