Neil!

Every now and then, one of my girlfriends gets tickets to a concert at Staples Center, in one of the incredible luxury boxes they have there, where there's food and wine and then a dessert cart comes around and serves you incredible, decadent desserts, accompanied by liquer in a chocolate cup. It's the kind of experience that's hard to pass up.

I tell you all this so that you don't snigger quite as much when I say that I went to a Neil Diamond concert tonight.

But wait, it gets worse. Out of the four of us attending the concert--of which I was the oldest at age 41--three of us had taken naps this afternoon. Naps. In preparation for a Neil Diamond concert. Because, you know, we might be out until 11 or something. WHAT IN GOD'S NAME HAS HAPPENED TO US?

Actually, it was fun, even if Neil, at age 64 and dressed in a sequiny track suit thing, DID attempt some sort of rap-like dealie around Red, Red Wine that may have scarred me for life. I know he wrote the song, but I still think UB40 would have a good case for a cease and desist order. But, really, what do I care? The only thing that really matters is that my tiny cup of amaretto in swirled white-and-milk chocolate was the perfect complement to the fresh apple dipped in caramel and nuts. I'll tell ya, Caroline, that was sweeeeeet.