My Idiot Heart Still Crazy After All These Years

My Random Life, episode 4,729: the Nice Neighbor.

In the almost three years that I have lived next door to this guy, we have had one very awkward conversation after he over-complimented me early on, here.

Since then we have merely exchanged greetings.

So imagine my surprise when, a few weeks ago, he asked if I liked Paul Simon and offered me a ticket to tonight's show.

At the time he offered, I a) didn't know Simon was coming and b) wouldn't have been able to pay $87 for a ticket anyway.

Tonight, he called as I was leaving to go to dinner and offered me a ride to the show. What, everyone doesn't have neighbors like this?

So off I went to dinner at the Magpie, where I ran into an acquaintance I hadn't seen in years as well as others on their way to the show.

"You're going in time for the opener?" one woman asked me, clearly surprised. Uh, yes.

After the past couple of shorts-wearing weeks, I returned to red wine tonight with Honora Vera Granacha, only to learn it's the owner's current favorite. One of the concert goers ordered it, too, making it a popular choice tonight.

Dinner was the sweetbreads with grilled pear and sage custard, one of those dishes I think could convert non-gland eaters with its wonderful texture and savory taste.

For the first time since Magpie opened, classic rock had been replaced by '80s music, so Wham!, Culture Club and Duran Duran were my dinner music.

Apparently the staff had revolted over so much classic rock. Heaven knows I would have joined that revolution had I known it was brewing.

I returned home to catch a ride to the show with my generous neighbor.

At the Landmark, the crowd's ages ranged from kids to oldsters and if it wasn't sold out, it was damn close.

Minutes after sitting down, the guy next to me told me I could put my coat on the seat next to him. I expressed surprise that he had an extra seat.

"It's a long story," he said ominously.

"What a shame," I said empathetically.

"Not really," he grumbled. Seems he'd driven all the way from Suffolk for the chance to see Simon for the first time, but no other details were given.

Carsie Blanton took the stage in a pretty red dress with a guitar and an upright bass player, announcing, "Hi, I'm Paul Simon. No, I'm the surprise opener, which is okay because I'm good."

She was correct and her clever songs ("He was the sweetest talker you ever heard but his motives were unclear") and beautiful voice got the crowd's attention.

She sang the title song from her new album "Idiot Heart," totally charming the audience and offering her CDs for pay-what-you-will. I bet she had a lot of takers.

Then it was Paul Simon who really came out and jumped into "The Boy in the Bubble" with an eight-piece behind him and three drummers to start.

The best thing about the show, besides how fine his voice sounded, was the varied takes on his own songs.

"Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover' got a funked-up brassy arrangement while "Mother and Child Reunion" had sort of a calypso sound.

Since today is the tenth anniversary of George Harrison's death, he did a beautiful rendition of "Here Comes the Sun" to far too many cell phone cameras.

In the moment, people, let's try to stay in the moment.

After a while, the aisles became crowded with enthusiastic fans dancing to songs like "Late in the Evening."

The last time I saw that much dancing at the Landmark was at a Prince show.

Personally, I could have melted at hearing "Hearts and Bones," the song he wrote when he was in love with Carrie Fisher.

The arc of a love affair
His hands rolling down her hair
Love like lightening shaking till it moans
Hearts and bones

There were two encores including an acoustic version of "Sounds of Silence" that garnered absolute silence from the crowd.

I found  it positively goosebump-worthy.

"Graceland" prompted a roar from the crowd, but "Still Crazy After All These Years" seemed to me like the ideal encore song from a 70-year old.

And unlike at some shows, no one seemed to be leaving early.

When they were really done, he appropriately introduced each of the band members, not surprising given how incredibly amazing they had been.

When the lights came up, the taped music immediately caught my ear: Frank Sinatra singing "Mrs. Robinson."

Perfect. Well, not for the guy next to me from Suffolk. Five songs into Simon's set, he had excused himself and left.

I'd have loved to have heard the story behind that hasty exit. A two-hour drive for five songs? What the...?

But then I'd been driven a half a mile to hear a legend, so I preferred to focus on that.

Lucky me, the good neighbor policy is in full effect in Jackson Ward.