Last night, John and I went to see Colin Hay at the Birchmere in Alexandria (a bit of a haul for us now, although I guess it always was). I bought him tickets for his birthday, and when we got there (early) and waited and waited and waited, neither of us were convinced it was worth the drive. But then the show started. He was good. He was really good, and we really enjoyed it, and I want to buy all of his albums and learn all of his songs. But seriously, so many of them were SO sad! I cried THREE times. In between the songs (and in between the bouts of crying), he talked a lot, there was plenty of funny banter, and his accent is a weird combination of Scottish and Australian, so it was fascinating to hear him talk anyway.
Still, I want to hear more of his stuff. Without the crying.