Last night The B-52’s played in KC … and I’m proud to say I lost my ever-lovin’ mind – uh, again.  My love affair with Cindy, Fred, Kate and Keith goes back to 1983.

Saw ‘em during college — days before I graduated.  Rang in the new Millennium with ‘em in Orlando on December 31^st, 1999.  Got to meet them at Spirit Fest over Labor Day weekend in 2001.  And saw them a couple summers ago at a festival.

Nothing gets me more excited or makes me happier than hanging with The B’s.  Last night was no exception.  I was walking on air all day.  And they were in particularly good form last night. 

Kate was her usually kooky self … twirling and swirling from one side of stage to the other.  She likes to shimmy, sway and swing … usually simultaneously.  It helped that she was wearing a red dress with fringe – it kept moving even after she had stopped.  Kate sounds good LIVE.  She’s got the pipes to belt it out for two hours and a voice that soars to the rafters.  And that’s not even counting the weird chirps and hiccups she throws in.   Kate is the glue that holds The B’s together and last night she was in fine form.  Probably because it appeared she was wearing a snug corset.   How she can sing in a girdle, I’ll never know.

For the first couple songs, front man Fred Schneider looked like he’d rather be anywhere than in front of an audience.   There were a lot of technical issues at the beginning of the concert that threw off his mojo.  He’d storm off stage and storm back on with Kate and Cindy looking on.  Finally, once the technical problems were fixed, Fred was back on par.  He’d speak-sing his lyrics and gyrate to the beat.  And, for some reason, he locked eyeball to eyeball with me through most of the concert.  Maybe because I was directly in his eye line three rows back.  Or maybe because the two rows ahead of me were filled with wildly unattractive people.

Keith stood off to the side and revved his guitar to the beat all night.  While he’s not the youngest member of the group – he certainly looks it.   He plants himself to the far right of the stage and stays there.  Kate and Cindy will occasionally scoot over and dance with him.  He looks brooding, but unassuming.  At the festival a few years ago, I caught his eye.  I gave him one of those quick head nods that quickly conveyed, “I worship you.  I love your band.  You complete me.”  He nodded back.  We’ve been cosmically connected ever since.  (Hello?  Restraining order anyone?)  Up until last night, I’d never heard Keith speak during a concert.  As the band was traipsing off stage, he walked up to the mic and thanked everyone for coming and how much he enjoys Kansas City.  You could have knocked me over with a feather … boa.

My fave, by far, is Cindy.  When I met her a few years ago, I told her she was my favorite.  And she said, “I know.”  As far as I’m concerned, the sun rises and sets on this woman.  When she chimes in with Kate to make those bizarre, but gorgeous harmonies – it’s just a little slice of bliss.  Last night Cindy was fired up.  She typically holds on to the microphone for dear life and whoops like a soul sister, but last night was different.  She was dancing and prancing most of the night.  And the crowd was eating it up.  She was dressed in – as God as my witness – leopard-print pajamas.  I guess when you’re a 50-something rock star – you can wear whatever you want.  She’d mosey out to the crowd and let them sing in to her mic.  She smacked a guy on his butt and then turned to let him reciprocate in kind.  And when she ripped in to “Give Me Back My Man” the crowd went berserk.  She also had a pretty powerful electric fan poised at her feet which gave her hair a windswept effect.  If I was a betting man, I’d bet she was having hot flashes off and on all night.  Stupid menopause. 

All in all, a phenomenal concert.  A few technical issues here and there, but otherwise nothing but non-stop dance music for 90+ minutes.  I’m proudly wearing my B-52’s t-shirt today.  I’ve got my new “Funplex” poster displayed on the wall.  And I’m eating out of my new B-52’s lunchbox.  Hamburgers, of course.  They popped up in my head.  From the age of Aquarius.