Bookending the D.C. experience

We were all 17 years younger then: Carlos, Steve, Catherine and I, residents of Ryan Hall, that Halloween night of 1991 when we piled in Catherine's parents' car for the drive to the Capital Centre for George Michael's concert.

Though I don't remember many of the particulars I doubt we made any sort of pact suggesting we would all meet at the next one. And heck, as it turned out, he didn't even come back to D.C. until last night.

Until about a month ago, hadn't seen Catherine since Cate and I went to an Orioles game with her and her husband in 1995 or 1996. Haven't heard from Steve from forever, though he's Google-able, and Carlos, well, his last name is too common to make a search engine of much assistance. But when we met for lunch recently (she works a couple miles down the road) she mentioned she had George Michael tickets for one of my last nights in town.

We were in just about the back row: section 410, row P, with one row of seats behind us. That is, until the usher came around and started handing out upgrades to the floor! So we got bumped up (or down) to section 4. As other fans started filtering in around us, Catherine kept asking, "Did you get the hookup?!" (Two whole rows of us got $230 seats for our $55 tickets. Ticket price in 1991 was $27.50.)

They had cameras in the house last night, so we're thinking maybe they didn't want to have empty seats on the floor with "tape" rolling.

So as not to further embarrass Neil I won't wax poetic about the concert. Let's just say it was a fun time.

It seemed like a good way to cap off the D.C. thing somewhat the way it started. And Cate either didn't mind or has bit her tongue. I'm not sure I got enough work done on the house over the weekend to merit a night off but I got one anyway.

Gone in 48 hours ...