Animal Magnetism (a/k/a Saturday Night With Bon Jovi)

Animal Magnetism Defined by JCAUNCMom

Last Christmas my preciously understanding hubby gave me ridiculously jaw-dropping floor seats to this past weekend's Bon Jovi concert.  I couldn't have been more excited if I'd been 17 years old.  I've never (!) had floor seats before, and these were so close that I could see my all-time favorite rocker (and, next to DH, all-time favorite eye candy) glistening, growling and grinning his blinding smile even without my binoculars.

The evening was weirdly cool for mid-May here, so I needed a sweater and, in a flash of (I must say) genius, I broke out a couple of old but perfect "theme" pieces.  I must say, I looked cute and I was pleased with this respectful and subtle nod to JBJ's golden-maned, pearly-toothed, "King of the Jungle" stage-prowling awesomeness.  And if you're thinking "Well, girl, I'm glad YOU looked good but how did HE look?", well, all I can say is that he really must have a portrait of himself in his attic like Dorian Gray, because the man gets more handsome and more fit with every passing year.  And it was a fantastic, rockin', sing-along show, y'all.  Philips Arena was completely sold out (20,000 happy fans) and I'd say the ratio of women (of all ages) to men was 85/15.  A squeal fest for sure!

My husband scored enough brownie points with this one to last him through 2012.  ;-)