BoomerGirl Diary

This week I was thrown into the middle of Hannah Montana Mania. For those of you who don't know who she is, I'll tell you.

"Hannah Montana" is a show on the Disney channel about a teenaged girl named Miley (her dad is played by her real dad, Billy Ray Cyrus of Achy Breaky Heart fame). Miley is a typical teen in almost every way except she has a secret identity, when she dons a blond wig and becomes the singing star Hannah Montana. Miley, a.k.a. Hannah, is a very likable girl with good values, a sense of humor, a loving protective dad, seemingly no mom, a funny brother, a close girlfriend that knows and keeps her secret, and a lot of catchy pop songs to sing.

Tween* girls like my 8-year-old granddaughter have been watching Hannah Montana for a couple of years now and have easily grown to love and admire her. So it's not hard to understand why these tween girls from all over America simply flipped their lids when Hannah announced she was going out on a concert tour.

As I have spoken about in previous blogs, the tickets went on sale at a somewhat reasonable price ($26-$56), but were quickly snatched up by scalpers who proceeded to sell them at unbelievably high prices ($300-$1000). And actually got it from some parents who were willing to pay anything to get their daughters in on the hottest show of the year.

My daughter was not able to pay those kinds of prices and wouldn't even if she could, so we held out until the day of the show and kept checking in to the Ticketmaster website. Around 4 p.m. (when they release tickets that have been held back for the band), I hit the magic window of opportunity and was able to acquire two tickets on the floor at the face value price. My granddaughter was elated; this was her birthday present. Now the trick was that I had to be the one to retrieve the tickets from the box office, because I was the credit card holder.

I drove my daughter and granddaughter to the venue around 6:00pm through traffic that was bumper to bumper and had to park a block away on a side street in an illegal spot and leave them in the car while I hiked up the street in a freezing wind toward the sounds of remote radio stations blaring through loud speakers, giving away tickets and backstage passes in last minute contests. Newspaper and TV reporters with cameramen swarmed the blocked-off street, interviewing families as they headed toward the venue doors. To add to the pandemonium, a local religious family group notorious for picketing any kind of large event was strung out all along the sidewalk in front of the venue carrying signs declaring GOD HATES FAGS and GOD HATES DISNEY. I'm not sure how it was relevant to what was going on, but no one seemed to be paying much attention.

As I stepped into one of the lines of the 10 box office windows, I braced myself for a long wait, but the line actually moved pretty fast. All around me was an ocean of suburban moms and corporate dads surrounded by giggling, excited little girls, all waiting to get their hands on the coveted golden tickets. Willy Wonka had nothing on this bunch. They were not only excited about seeing Hannah Montana, but the opening act was going to be The Jonas Brothers, three cute curly haired teenaged boys, who are also a big deal.

It was finally my turn at the window and I hastily flashed my credit card and ID and put my signature on the dotted line and was handed the two tickets that I knew I could be mugged for. I shoved them in my pocket and scurried away to my breathlessly waiting offspring. I passed a couple of scalpers holding up handfuls of tickets and asked them how much tickets were going for. "How many do you want?" said one. "I don't want any, I just want to know what you're selling them for," was my reply. They quickly turned away and wouldn't answer me. Cowards... I hope they got stuck with a lot of them.

The girls were happy to see me return with the prize and bundled their coats around them ready to brave the storm. My granddaughter flashed me a big smile as she and her mother started up the street and I heard her say, "Thanks so much, Grandma." It was music to my ears.

An hour and a half later I returned to the same spot with my husband and we waited in the car for the show to be over. The girls called us on their cell phone and we could hear the strains of the most popular of the Hannah Montana songs squeezing through the tiny speaker, "You get the best of both worlds, chill it out, take it slow, then you rock out the show." Mark and I laughed as the song came to an end and we could hear 12,000 little girls screaming in high-pitched tones.

In the next few minutes, we started seeing them all start trickling out, building and building until throngs of families trotted, skipped, and ran down the street to their cars. The night was cold, but no one seemed to notice. Mark got out and walked up to the venue to look for the girls, but they made it to the car without him seeing them. My granddaughter was grinning from ear to ear. Mark showed up behind them and on the way home we listened to my granddaughter's exciting account of the show. My daughter put it in perspective by saying it was the most over-privileged white girls she'd ever seen in one place, but added that they had a really good time. The birthday festivities were a success and Hannah Montana moved on to the next town to overwhelm and entertain the next batch of screaming tweens.

Until next time, rock on and be excellent to each other ... Penny

• Definition from Urban Dictionary: "Tween," an age set overlapping preteens, tween 8 and 14, a tween desperately wants to be a teen, but isn't about to stop being a kid.