We took Uta to see David Byrne at Radio City, thanks to some free tickets that landed in our lap (courtesy of Grandpa T's friend Teresa). I was reluctant, expecting Uta to be a little less than interested. But I was wrong. Radio City itself knocked him over, literally. We stepped foot into the lobby and he fell on his back in amazement, he could have lay there all night admiring the grandeur of it all. The concert itself was riveting for the boy. David Byrne all decked out in white, hair to match, and a group of dancers that were playful and robotic had Uta spell bound. His favorite part was when DB and the dancers came out on swivel chairs and did a semi synchronized lazy office worker dance. Uta is now a confirmed fan and says he likes David Byrne just as much as Michael Jackson. No longer does he complain when I play his music. Instead he has rather diplomatically requested that I please not sing along anymore, he prefers to hear David Byrne on his own. Fair enough.
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