After having a couple days “sink-in” time, I feel I now am fully able to describe the experience of seeing Tori Amos in concert. I can only describe the evening as “a religious experience.” For those unfamiliar with religious experiences, I’ll try to explain as best I can.
Imagine that your butt is incredibly sore from what seems like an eternity of sitting on uncomfortable rows of seating. Your knees are sore because you’ve had your elbows resting on them so that you can better cradle your head in your hands while you gaze intently at the tops of your shoes. (The shoes are more interesting than what is going on at the front of the room.) The occasional glance upwards reveals people inexplicably enraptured by the act of worshiping the deity they are there to behold. The person currently holding the attention of everyone in the room keeps saying things that don’t quite make sense and sings songs that verge on illiteracy while the room fills with organ music.
The communion passed around at this particular religious gathering doesn’t consist of wafers and wine (or even the more liberal bread chunks and grape juice); communion here is lemonade and churros. The cost of this communion is $14, but that really isn’t so bad — without Salvation, you face burning in the fires of a Tori Amos concert for all eternity, which would be quite a cost indeed.
