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I was by no means the most devoted parent among the crowd. Some mothers had spent days camping out on sidewalks near the main plaza with their daughters, waiting for some of the first spots near the stage. One youth told a local newspaper he lost his job because his boss didn't want to give him time off to come to the concert.
We didn't even get close. The jostling and crowding up front was reportedly fierce.
Still, I was concerned. Even as far back as we were (and my daughters said they felt we were closer than at the paid concert in October), thoughts ran through my mind: Forty people had been injured in a stampede at a Bieber concert in Oslo, Norway, in May. The girls were oblivious. I, on the other hand, feeling older by the minute, glanced around and mentally plotted potential escape routes if a massive surge of hormones sparked a stampede.
It didn't happen. Bieber did what he usually does: invite a single girl up on stage and sing "One Less Lonely Girl" to her. She couldn't stop weeping. She'll no doubt have something to remember for the rest of her life.
So do my daughters. The 14-year-old, Sarahi, told her mother over the phone, "I endured hunger, fatigue, rain and sun to see my platonic love."
They had become part of the elite group of fans known as "Beliebers."
I have a little souvenir of the concert, too: a backache that seems to suggest I did something really, permanently bad to my spinal cord.
That, of course was exacerbated by carrying my exhausted but content 9-year-old out of the plaza after the concert.
Magically, she had become a little girl again.
[Associated
Press;
Copyright 2012 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
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