It was Friday night around 8:00 and the casino and lobby area was packed with people, many dressed to kill. Elderly ladies carried plastic cups filled with silver, heading for the clanking slot machines; Casino pit bosses strolled the floors, as did winners and losers; Waitresses in short skirts sprinted across the plush carpet, balancing trays filled with drinks. Noise everywhere, shouts of people who hit it big, groans of gamblers who just missed it, mixing with the ringing of jackpots cutting through the hustle and bustle.
Manilow fans were everywhere, their identity known by familiar t-shirts bearing Barry's likeness. The glitz and glitter was exciting as guys roared at the crap tables while squeals from Manilow fans greeting each other pierced the usual casino racket.
After a quick dinner we filmed the promotional spots on the almost deserted, chilly boardwalk. It was spring but the breeze from the nearby Atlantic Ocean made us wish we had brought along a winter coat. It was very quiet and calm on the boardwalk, as opposed to the chaos inside the casino .I swear we saw a few light snowflakes flutter by as we wrapped up the filming.
Mike and Jill stood behind my wheelchair as Mike announced, "Jill, Greg and I are going inside to get a bite to eat ( we already did).We'll tell you all about the big meeting with Barry Manilow tomorrow night. This is Three Wishes for you..."
Reality television at its best!
Tomorrow night? Mike was planning for this report to run in two parts, he explained, the reunion with Jill then the Atlantic City excitement. The air date wouldn't be until a month later. Could the Delaware Valley stand it?
Back then, the theater was not accessible for a wheelchair ( it was still the dark ages), so the usher took us through the kitchen area, briefly backstage in order to reach our seats in the theater, avoiding the stairs to the lower level. The joint was rapidly filling up and Mike would soon depart to direct the action in the back where the camera would film the first part of the show. He left us with final instructions.
"Since we can't take the TV camera backstage I'm going to count on you to give me a detailed account of everything that goes on."
Mike planned to interview us after the meeting." Remember everything that Manilow says and look excited " he asked. No trouble there, Mike.
Then, a last minute stroke of brilliance overtook Mike. He gave me his expensive camera ( the regular kind), saying with a wink,'We can't take our camera back there, but nobody said you can't take yours."
Jill had hers. I had Mike's. When given the chance, take as many shot as possible. Mike had a plan to somehow work our photos into the story. Would they say no pictures to us as well?
We sat at a small round table on the extreme right of the stage. High rollers and fan club members filled the front rows of the sold out theater.
The first time I ever saw Manilow in concert it was 1981 and I was in Row Z of the same theater, as far back as you can get./For Jill, it would be her first Manilow concert in five years since she was at the front of the Oslo ticket line so long ago. We both came a long way.
The lights dimmed, the music played, the speakers blared, the crowd screamed and nearly everyone stood. I tried to look around a few people in the way before I spotted Manilow, kissing female fans, shaking hands and working his way from the back of the theater to the stage. He wore a dark pinstriped suit, which was in danger of being ripped off his body by over-zealous female fans in the aisles. Security was everywhere. What a mob scene until he finally reached the stage!
On stage ( and still in one piece) the crowd cheered, clapped and sang along to Barry's hits like "It's A Miracle." Then came a string of those sweet, marsh mellow ballads, songs like 'Weekend in New England" and 'Even Now." During the "Can't Smile Without You" segment he looked at Jill again-like five years earlier in Norway- but picked another girl. Jill would just have to be contend with going back stage after the show.
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The finale,. and the highlight of the ninety-minute performance, was Barry's 'Gonzo Hits" melody- over twenty of his biggest hits bunched together in one long, non-stop, twenty-minute showstopping treat - everything from "Tryin' To Get The Feeling" to our sentimental favorite, "Somewhere Down The Road."
The powerful, emotional 'I Write The Songs," Manilow's signature song, wrapped up the melody. The crowd stood for what seemed like an eternity, begging for an encore. He came back with rousing versions of "Copacabana" and "I'm Your Man."
We cheered wildly until the curtain closed and the lights came up. And that was it. We were exhausted and thrilled.
The crowd slowly filed out of the theater, a few stragglers hanging out and chatting about the show until the ushers chased them. Susan, Manilow's public relations person I had met at the Cherry Hill book signing, suddenly appeared and said to follow her .
The concert would've been enough. It was time to finally meet Manilow.
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