That made me feel old, too. Twenty fucking years. When my sister and I played Barbies with our next-door neighbor we would fight over whose Barbie got to go out with Jon Bon Jovi. This was back when the special effects in the "Runaway" video were state of the art to a seventh grader.

What? Why was I playing with Barbies in seventh grade? I was a late bloomer, okay? I was eleven years old and still years away from even an A cup, and by the way thank you for bringing up my ancient junior high trauma, you insensitive fucker.

And then it was 1987 and everyone knows how it was in New Jersey back then. You'd just be sitting down to dinner and there'd be a knock at the door. "Hi, ma'am, we're just checking our records...do you have a fifteen year old girl living in your house? Very good. Here is a copy of Slippery When Wet and a giant can of Aqua Net; the greaser boyfriend will be dropping off his application shortly once his Camaro is out of the shop. Have a good day!"

(Does anyone still say "greaser"? They probably don't. This is like me saying "Jeepers creepers" with no irony whatsoever, isn't it? Damn.)

So I always loved them, even when my mom decided she loved "I'll Be There For You" when they released New Jersey. Jon Bon Jovi with long hair, Jon Bon Jovi with short hair, Richie Sambora and the hat, anthems, ballads, the whole nine yards. I missed them whenever they were gone and rarely change the station on a Bon Jovi tune.

Plus, the people-watching at a show like this is amazing. Dude. The hair! The boots! The fact that people still own acid washed jeans! It was nowhere near as bad as the Def Leppard concert but there was still some serious big bar hair going on. Black suede high heeled boots, denim jackets, blue eyeshadow. Oh, and a couple of fifteen year old girls talking about how "omigod, I always get into fights at concerts because of all these stupid old bitches who won't get their fat asses out of my way..."

KC stiff-armed me into a doorway at that point and just said, "NO. Keep walking and give the nice security guard your ticket."

We got in, got a drink, picked up a hooded sweatshirt for me because I can never have too many (shoes, long sleeved Ts, and zipper hoodies; those "What Not To Wear" people would keel over and die) and proceeded to our seats. Which were second row from the top of the mezzanine level. Yow. We still had a good view of the stage, though; even better than we did for Pearl Jam, really. We sat in a decent section, with people who were really into the whole thing, and everyone helped each other out when row hopping (you know, climbing over rows of seats instead of using the steps) by holding drinks and jackets and such. Except for the one princess who came in with her two friends and refused to sit next to KC, hissing "I am not going to sit next to a person I don't even know!" I leaned over and said "Honey, you're getting off easy, you could be squished up to the fat chick" and KC said "It's okay, I know I have that old man smell" and the guy behind us spit beer through his nose. I know this because it landed on my head. And also he said "ow, my nose."

The show itself was great. They had a good mix of newer and older stuff, some B-sides, and Jon Bon Jovi did a lot of walking through the crowd; he opened on the opposite end from the stage and walked through to get up with the band, and during "Blaze of Glory" and "Bed of Roses" he stood on the side under our section and again walked back to the stage at the end, kissing girls and high fiving along the way. Those lucky bitches. We thought that was really cool; I don't think I've seen anything like that before. Both Eddie Vedder and BNL do a lot of interacting with the audience but they've never done it off the stage where I've seen them.

KC and I played "spot the location" during "Who Says You Can't Go Home?", since the background clips were taken while driving through Jersey, and when the band came out for the encore a couple of them were wearing Philadelphia Soul jerseys. They closed the set with "Living on a Prayer", of course, and everyone sang all the words, of course.

The part where I dorked out the most was at the very end. I had been waiting for the entire show for "Wanted Dead or Alive" and analyzing coats and hats to see if it would come up next. Nothing. And then, at the end, Richie Sambora walks toward the wings and comes back in the coat, carrying the 12-string. My eyes got huge and I started poking KC.

"Is it...does he...I think...YES! YES! HE HAS THE TWELVE-STRING OH MY GOD THIS IS IT THEY'RE GONNA DO MY SONG THERE IT IS THERE IT IS THERE IT IS EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" And I started jumping up and down. Literally. It started as bouncing on my toes and evolved into a full scale Jersey hair hop. Complete fangirl devolution. As if, you know, I only wanted three things for Christmas: peace in the Middle East, food for all the hungry children in the world, and Bon Jovi to close with "Wanted Dead or Alive".

It was the best concert in the world, until we got to BNL playing a small venue the next night. Talk about your perspective changes. That's something to save for tomorrow.

Mind you, if you're more like this guy, you'll just roll your eyes at me. I can live with that.