The set opened on piano with "My Country 'Tis of Thee" leading into "The American In Me"...

"Sometimes I'm right, sometimes I'm wrong..."

...at the end of which Michael shared the first story from a running string of (most welcome) commentary that continued throughout the set.  While various parts of the tale have been told before and elsewhere (including within the song that followed), it concluded this time with a witty observation he attributed to his dad:  "The world is your oyster.  It's just unfortunate you're allergic to shellfish."

I think the following photo pretty much sums up Michael's feelings about that...

Be that as it may, it was with unmistakable pride he at last embarked upon "My Father's Son"...

"He carries around a heavy load, I swear it weighs a ton,
I wish I could help him carry it 'cause I'm my father's son."

A bit more serious commentary was offered as Michael switched to guitar, regarding a nephew of his currently serving in Iraq.  It was no surprise, therefore, that the next song proved to be "Arm Yourself" (with the usual intro of "In My Time of Dying")...

"Dimlit dreams dance in darkened doorways..."

Judging by the sporadic talk and laughter coming from a table just to Michael's left, however, it appeared not everyone was quite so moved by the somber thoughts associated with the song -- a circumstance which prompted a bit of dissatisfaction from Michael...

...ultimately expressed (in a spirit of fun) directly to the offenders: "I thought the chatty girls always sat in the back," he admonished the group...ending with the tongue-in-cheek promise, "We can talk about Paris Hilton later..."  

For the moment, however, it was time for another more serious topic -- a lament at being such a "Long Way From Heaven"...which featured slightly altered lyrics at one point on this occasion...

"I'm not sure what you're saying with every look..."

More commentary followed, this time sharing the story of singing the national anthem in L.A and his preconceived (and very strongly negative) image of Shaquille O'Neal.  After the performance, Michael said this (both figurative and literal) giant came up to him and said, "It's about time they got somebody who could actually sing that."  Michael's reaction?  Yeah, you guessed it... "Thank you Shaq...I LOVE YOU, SHAQ!!!!!!!

Ah, vanity...maybe Michael needs to add yet one more verse to "A Wall I Must Climb"...

"My feelings they were stinging, I was submerged down in my defeat..."

...or perhaps, I offer gently, make that two...with the second being self-indulgence.  I must confess at this point that while I absolutely love half of Michael's new album, Noise From Words, and very much like an additional third, that leaves two songs on the disc that just aren't my cup of tea.  Unfortunately for me, both were a part of the brief set list this evening -- the first being the aforementioned "The American In Me".

The second is "Still Ain't Over You Yet", which (like The American In Me) I find a rather poor composition lyrically ("I don't even think Jesus Christ knows the piss-poor shape that I'm in"...oh, puh-leeze!).  But then, Michael prefaced the song with the revelation he'd proposed to the woman it speaks of on New Year's Eve...the result of which was, uh, shall we say, a little less than what he'd wanted...or hoped...or even feared.  And after noting this outcome he added ruefully, "You know, this is more a confessional than a show.  You don't need to be here.  Me and Dr. Phil could figure all out pretty quickly..." That said, I guess I've been a bit emboldened to offer this slight confession of my own.

To conclude my thoughts on the topic, then, I'll just state the obvious, which is that I'm a writer...meaning my references for describing "real life" are largely literary.  That said, the one which comes to mind here is an Old Testament tale about a guy with hair something like this...

...until he fell for a rather self-interested gal who made it look more like this...

Hey, I'm not saying there's any correlation...although the names of both do happen to start with the same letter.  I'm just offering a little challenging reading for a web page about a show that included a tune about one of them -- which brings me back to my original point that I just don't think it's a great song.  Because, no matter my personal feelings about its "heroine" [interesting word for "femmes" who sometimes prove "fatale", by the way...] I've counted since first listen another song about the same woman ("When It Comes To You") one of Michael's best compositions of the new millennium thus far.  But, goodness knows, there's nothing more subjective than art.   And, surely I've subjected you to enough of my opinions on this topic.  So, on to the next song... 

No argument that was a memorable performance in the most positive -- and once more slightly different -- way...as Michael inserted a bit of another song I'd never heard just before concluding with the usual last verse of "Junkie Girl"... 

"Goin' to where the boats go by...California River flows so wide..."

"She's my Junkie Girl..."

And, though the set was starting to wind down at this point, Michael wasn't quite through "confessing" just yet -- thankfully!  Next he mentioned that during a problematic period in his life he was sent to live in NYC at a place on 23rd and 2nd.  The short story -- "things got worse".  The moral, so he said, "Don't send an idiot to an idiot's playground like Manhattan."  Because the result, apparently, is "where this song comes from"... in other words, it seems he made something of a "Mess of Things"...

"The poet writes, the singer sings... 

and you and I, we always make a mess of things."

Unfortunately, as Michael was just getting warmed up, so it seemed, the club's time constraints meant they thought the set was over.  Not one to throw up his hands in defeat...(okay, well, maybe it looks that way...)

...Michael showed a bit of the persistence that's kept him musically strong for so many years as he stood his ground.  And, thanks to that persistence the audience was treated to yet another tune, the always rollicking "20 Miles South of Nowhere"...

"I swear, she was beautiful, not that long ago...

"before everything began to fail her..."

Finally, he simply thanked the appreciative crowd..

...and disappeared into the night.  

Well, not all that far away, actually...just outside to chat with attendees...

...from far...

...and a bit less so...

...on behalf of all of whom I speak, I'm sure, when I say...

As always, 

Thank You, Michael!

And, again,

Please come back SOON!!!