The night began like this:
In walks my cousin.
Cousin: You ready to go? I'll drive, you're probably tired of being the DD.
Me: Oh... I guess. Okay.
We get in the car.
Cousin: What I really meant was, I've been drinking since 2 this afternoon and I'll get us there faster.
It turned out she was right. We went about 90mph the entire way to Mohegan Sun, small country roads included. When we arrived we packed like sardines into an elevator full of feisty, and self-proclaimed 'sweaty' tourists then proceeded to power-walk through the maze of casinos until we could hear some faint guitar music. During the ride, my cousin had debated whether or not to drink the warm can of Natty Ice that was rolling around the floor of car, only to decide against it. Thus, our first order of business was not to check out Colin Hay, but to find the nearest bar.
Tiny gin and tonics in hand, we headed over to the outskirts of the Wolf Den, where we had a pretty good view of the band. I had previously only heard acoustic versions of Hay's solo music, so the added electronica and amplification took some getting used to. In some cases I think it was to the benefit of his sometimes dull folksongs, such as Overkill, but others were better left alone, like Waiting for My Real Life to Begin. His final song was the crowd-pleaser Down Under. This was all enhanced by the stylings of Cecilia Noel, who performed next to Hay. She played the tamborine and made some flailing movements which appeared to be a combination of American Sign Language and dancing. During Down Under she played some sort of air flute, or maybe it was an imaginary didgeridoo, it was hard to tell. By that point I was buzzed and mostly just staring at a Russian woman's cleavage.