09.24.02 - 4:15 p.m.

Part of the problem with having this diary is the tendency to narrate events in your head as they happen, rather than experiencing said event and waiting for the impressions to trickle from your brain through your fingers onto the page. Such was the case with last night's Elton John/Billy Joel show.

Even if Kerry really hates her job (and I know she does), it will be a damn shame when she quits if only for the loss of all the free stuff. Tom (a different boss than the one who procured us the MTV tickets) and his beau, Mark (a former Versace model) are v.v. good friends with Sir Elton. So when Kerry got free tix from Tom, we did not have to sit with the peons in the nosebleed seats. Rather, we were in the section where ushers politely ask, "Champagne?" instead of shouting, "Beer here!" Where we could see Tom and Mark sitting with David Furnish, Liz Hurley and Denis Leary. Where I had a good view of a teleprompter so I always knew what song was coming next.

Overall impression: Billy = affable dad, Elton = uncle who brings fun presents. Glad Elton busted out with "Crocodile Rock" at the end of his set. I equate the song with my mother's intense hatred of it, but perhaps Elton has as much of an irrational love for singing "Laaaaaaaaa, lalalalala," as I do.

It FELT like nothing but a singalong at times, especially during the closer, "Piano Man," when the audience sang a cappella while the band, Billy and Elton watched. Do Elton and Billy even like each other? How do they really feel about trotting out the hits one more time? Elton is probably closer to cultural relevancy than Billy at this point in their lives, which probably irks Billy given his remarks in that recent NYT article. I mean, Elton has the couture buddies, the write-ups of his benefits in InStyle, and his songs in pivotal moments in two pretty major recent movies - Moulin Rouge! and Almost Famous. Then again, Billy has his musical opening on Broadway. Then AGAIN, it was panned pretty hard in Chicago. Plus, his other recent headlines have been about his time in rehab.

But I ended up liking Billy's set more and feeling guilty about it since our seats came from Elton. I guess it's the His Dude in me, but the simple reason is that Billy's music was more of a soundtrack to my childhood. Case in point, the funny feelings that were stirred up when Billy launched into "Allentown." I remember bouncing on my parents' bed in the Delta Drive house, singing it but changing Allentown to Johnstown. I knew they were closing all our factories down too but I didn't know how true it rang. I didn't know our company would go under almost two decades later, didn't know the fear of a dying industry would haunt us even today. I still don't know why my father didn't get out when he had the chance, why he goes to work in a mill, deals with wire and machinery and acid, when I know that's not what he ever intended.

I remember listening to Billy's concert from Leningrad on the radio. I had no idea what glasnost or the Cold War or trickle-down economics even were. That's me: child of a working-class city with absolutely no clue about working-class politics. Well, Sweet Home Alabama me.