House of Blues, standing for almost seven straight hours.  Everyone's taller than me and my sister, so of course I have to peer between large heads, shift to one side or another past shoulders, and stand most of the time with my arms folded over, so as not to bump anyone.  Thank goodness I don't suffer from claustrophobia... all this, just to catch a glimpse of my musical heroes.  And you know what?  It was worth every foot aching, back aching, sweaty moment to finally see them after years of having worn out every Extreme CD I've ever owned.  I never had a chance to see them perform live.  Yet this was a band who's music got me through both good and bad times in my life, through thick and thin they were there, and this meant a lot to me.  Nuno Bettencourt is truly a guitar god, and Gary Cherone's voice and stage presence is just unmatched, IMO.  Pat Badger's bass is amazing, and as they sing, "Not bad for a pasty faced white boy."

The band had split up around 1995 and this reunion was like a dream come true for me.  When I'd discovered they were coming to Chicago I had to get tickets IMMEDIATELY.  This was my chance to see them finally!  And they didn't disappoint.  It was as though they'd never been apart for 13 years.  They all look GREAT!  No old has-beens here.  Nuno still is hot as hell, and thank God he played most of the night shirtless, so the swooning ladies got to see that gorgeous bod, and those six pack abs.  Haha.  HOT HOT HOT I tell you, and oh yeah, he literally makes love to that guitar, and gets it to make the most unbelievable sounds.  Guitar God, he is.  I snuck a few horrible pictures, most of them holding my cell phone up over my head.  The pics are bad, but I don't care, I got to stand about twenty feet away from my heroes, and it was an experience that meant more to me than I can explain.  I got to scream and yell like I was 18 again, and swoon like a goofy fangirl.  Gosh that felt good.  Thank you, Extreme!