During some quarantine cleaning, my mother came across this ten-year old Michael Buble shirt in her closet. At one point, it was mine. But from the moment she bought it for me, she wanted to turn it into a pillow, which is probably why I hadn’t seen the shirt in so many years. Mom got a Buble pillow for Christmas a few years later, so the shirt must have stayed in her closet all this time.
Upon receiving it a few weeks ago, I could tell at first glance that there was no way in hell it would fit me. The last time I remember wearing that shirt was probably when I was nine years old. So, instead of being a Good Samaritan and donating it or whatever, I decided to frame the shirt, along with another momento of the night I got it: My ticket stub from the first concert I ever attended.
It was February of 2010, another day in third grade. I was eight years old, dying to escape to California to become a child actor, minus the eventual drugs and hitting of rock bottom. I basically woke up one morning to my mom ecstatically hollering at me to come to her room on the double. “I’m only wearing underwear!” I called back. She didn’t care, so I did as I was told and raced into her bedroom. As usual, the radio was set to Magic 94.9. For some reason, Mom was shaking with excitement, so she told me to just wait until the next time the hosts of the morning show came back to talk. When they did, hush and listen.
Michael Buble had just released a No. 1 album, Crazy Love. Mom introduced him to me some years prior. And this was before he was crowned the king of 2010s Christmas music. I freakin’ loved the guy’s hits. Proof? Somewhere, there’s a CD of me when I was three or four singing a few of his songs (which will never see the light of day). I even sang his cover of Moondance at my summer camp talent show in 2009, which nobody, including my counselors, picked up on. They literally made me a blue paper crescent moon to strap around my white polo shirt so it could be cuter. Hehe, at least they tried.
So, Magic 94.9 had this thing where you had to not only be a certain number caller to win tickets or money: You also had to answer a trivia question. This week, they were giving away a weekend vacation at the Tradewinds Resort, and also two Buble tickets, since he’d be stopping in Tampa to promote Crazy Love. That was why Mom was screaming: She was the caller they selected, she answered the trivia question correctly, and she won the concert tickets. I’d be going to the show, and my dad would be going with her to the Tradewinds. Yep, my first proper concert.
Life pretty much went on as usual for me. From what I can remember, Mom was chronically pumped for the show. I was looking forward to our night out too, but let’s just say that I got to be…chronically pumped, when we caught Paul Simon in St. Augustine some seven years later.
I’ll admit, there’s not a lot I remember about the show itself. It was at the St. Pete Times Forum, now known as Amalie Arena. Though I vividly remember sitting in the seats we had: Directly across the stage, in the first section up from the floor. Looking at the ticket stub, it was section 109. So, kudos to the radio station for not cheaping out and giving us nosebleeds or something along the side.
I was a far different person in 2010 than I am right now, so during the show, who knows what I was doing? Was I leaning over trying to have a conversation with Mom about God-knows-what the whole time? Was I trying to really drink the experience in? Did I scream at the top of my lungs at the end of each song? And which of Michael’s songs that made it to the setlist did I even know? I seem to vaguely remember hearing Feeling Good at the very end of it all, hoping real hard that somehow, Moondance would scoot its way into the encore. That’s one thing I’ll never forget: Being disappointed that Michael didn’t give Tampa a taste of Moondance. Mom had to play the song for me in the car.
The last few times he’s been in Tampa, I missed out. Once was because I didn’t follow concerts at the time, and the most recent time (last year) was because I didn’t get around to buying tickets before they sold out. Knowing how close he was to giving up music for good when his son got sick in 2016, I think it’ll be best to catch him live as many more times as possible.
For now, though, I’m still pretty stunned that we held onto the shirt after all these years. Hopefully, in a few years time, or maybe when he reschedules his tour stop in Jacksonville when the pandemic calms down, I’ll have a new Buble shirt.
One that I can actually wear.
Josh Bradley Live 