How a Hard Night at The Hollywood Bowl Brought on a Simple Lesson

Perhaps it’s pretentious of me, posting this clip of myself singing along with the amazing vocal-stylings of Boyz II Men. But I hit that note when he sang the word tomorrow, though.  

Excuse me, is you sayin’ somethin’? Uh, uhn, you can’t tell me nothin’.

Anyhoo, I guess “Oh Well” was not a well-known song to the “Motown Philly” singers’ fans that night – the crowd literally talked all through it. If that wasn’t bad enough, they were repeat offenders every time the group sang a song they weren’t familiar with. I, however, knew this song well…okay not every word well, but well enough to sing along for most of it.

Matter of fact, I remember when I first came across this song – it was circa 2004 care of Myspace. Now I visit it periodically on YouTube. It’s the perfect song to perform at the Hollywood Bowl: the orchestral arrangement and their melodic voices both lend themselves to such a venue.

The fact that it’s an open-air venue is both a plus and a minus. It’s great to be able to listen to beautiful music while you sit under the stars, but because there are no walls and no roof, the sound can’t be contained. The music is free to roam about as it may. The sky is truly its limit. I remember reading somewhere once that The Hollywood Bowl isn’t a good venue for a concert with singers when your seats are higher up because the sound quality is diminished. I experienced that firsthand. With my seat up in the nosebleeds, the music from the stage had to compete with the conversations in the stands. As high up as I was, the music proved no match for the random chats and cackles of the folks in my immediate vicinity.

I didn’t have this problem the last time I went to The Hollywood Bowl. That might be because it was a classical or orchestral concert, and classical audiences know to shut the fuck up while the music is playing.

Pro tip: If you’re attending a concert at The Hollywood Bowl and you’re sitting in those high up seats, unless you’re singing along, please be quiet. Nobody wants to hear you over the performer.

This was my second solo outing to The Bowl, and once again I arrived late. My row was full when I got there, and they were none-too-pleased to see me.

There was a woman, who looked to be in her mid to late 40s, sitting in my spot with her food on the ground in front of my space. As I eased on down to my seat, she didn’t even get her food up right away. I had to tell her to get her shit… but you know, nicely. She was nice too, but it was that fake nice – I was on to her from jump. Sure enough my suspicions proved correct as she started to pump-up her friend on the other side of her by doing that dance where you lean back and raise and lower your hands. She had already bumped me a couple of times, but that crossed the line, and I had to tell her to stay out of my space… but you know, nicely.

Not to be out done, the guy to my left was intent on making my night miserable with his antics. He was loud and obnoxious, yelling out sayings like “yaaasss” and other phrases every chance he got during TLC’s set. He would also scream, “woooo” at the top of his lungs, only cuffing one side of his mouth and it wasn’t the side closest to me. And let me not forget about his dancing, where at times he would move his arms in such a way that if I made a slight move I would’ve probably gotten hit.  There were a few other times where he bumped me as well. I told him about it a couple of times too before finally I was like, “Look you got one mo’ time!” I don’t know what he thought I meant by that, but I was going to go find someone on staff and be like, “You either move him or give me my money back.”  He did test me a couple more times after that with some gingerly bumps which I let slide since it wasn’t like before. Plus, I don’t like to be confrontational.

During the intermission, he offered me a Milano cookie from his already opened Pepperidge Farm bag. Without looking at him, I turned him down. I guess that let him know I meant business, because when his friend came back from the bathroom, he switched places with her so that she now sat next to me instead.

“I tried to make friends, but it didn’t work,” he gaslit me to her. However, with that move, he indeed made a distant friend in me. By the time Boyz II Men took the stage, I was thankfully rid of him – a much better offering than his Covid-cookie.  

It was all enough to ruin my night – after all, I was in a nosebleed section (L1 if you must), spent $17 for two unappetizing tacos, got bumped several times and listened to people talk about nothing while the songs of an iconic group, backed up by an orchestra, competed with the noise – still I was determined not to let it.

I sang my heart out. I danced as well. I got up and took up space (without invading anyone else’s space). I made the most of the situation. Yet I’d be lying if I said the experience didn’t fall short of my expectations. I’d be lying if I said after all that I wasn’t disappointed.

Exiting The Hollywood Bowl – a free-for all of following the herd – was crazy, like putting rotten icing on an already spoiled cake.  I’m in this place in my life right now, where instead of complaining about bad situations that happen, I try to ask myself, “what has this come to teach me?” When I finally got back to the bus (I did the park and ride thing) after escaping the commotion of people on foot and in cars trying to leave, I sat next to a lady who said she was in the box seats. There was no talking during the songs down there she said.  That’s when it hit me, perhaps that’s the lesson – they don’t have to always be these soul-stirring, life-changing revelations. Sometimes they’re just as simple as upgrading your seat. Currently, there’s one more concert on The Hollywood Bowl calendar that’s in my sights. I’ll upgrade my seat for it and see if that does the trick.

Wanna read the story of my first solo-outing at the Hollywood Bowl? You’re just a click away!