After it became clear that everybody who was able was going to that concert I felt myself deprived of something necessary and significant for me.

Only one week was left until the 8th of March. What present would I like to get on that holiday? What will I do on these 3 days off?

There are always lots of things to do at home, though. You don't need to think long how to fill the days. To clean up the house, to arrange all that things which you never have time for in short evenings after long working days. To do some shopping, to make a holiday dinner. To let the daughter have computer for games and to let the husband have DVD player for viewing action movie. And for myself to listen to 3-5 songs from Chris Norman's disc at remaining time.

But. I feel the need to change something in this stereotyped pattern. And Chris Norman will perform in the capital right at that time. Oh, what a pity!! How could I get there?..

I have no fairy in friends. Well, therefore I will be a fairy for myself. First, I need a “carriage”. Two de luxe trains Petersburg-Moscow and Moscow-Petersburg can suit well for this role. I have to think over what to put on. And a footwear should be especially comfortable to stroll in Moscow a whole day and to spend the whole concert standing. And, by the way, also to be able to run to train not losing any shoe. Because you don't know for sure when the concert will finish but train will leave right on time. At midnight.

Well, everything is ready. Even tickets to the show have been ordered via internet and bought straight in Petersburg. Wonders of civilization!

Moscow on the 8th of March seemed to me rather quiet, not many cars on streets. Grey sky, damp asphalt, passages in metro, night lights of Kremlin. And here comes the “B1 Maximum” club. The entrance. Correct securities in grey suits. Metal detectors, spacious cloakroom. Grey and black coloured bricks of walls. Stairway leading to the dance hall. Blue and pink glows of stage in semidarkness. Dazzlingly white tableclothes on tables. High ceilings end no one knows where.

A call on mobile phone and I get acquainted with Stranger. I'd assign him a role of magician and wizard. I wouldn't get to know about the coming concert without his website. And here comes DK67. I tried to find Belka but didn't succeed to meet my townsman. Maybe next time... But what a present brings me DK67. The box of chocolates from Ukraine and even THREE CDs. Containing Smokie and the last album of Chris. I am already happy! But the main personage is still ahead.

The concert delayes on 20 minutes. Only 20 minutes of waiting. People standing crowded before the stage, wandering along the bars or taking up the tables.

But at last, Ladies and gentlemen. Please welcome. Chris's team takes places at their instruments and He appears - Mister Chris Norman - King of the Ball. Live on stage.

He walks with a gentle gait from the dark coulisses to the microphone and without giving a chance to the audience to show their enthusiasm he covers them all by the wave of his voice. I'll meet you at midnight... Under the moonlight... Then more songs. Chris looks a bit tired. His face is calm and restrained. Ashy dark blond hairs. A dimmed gaze. But gradually he warmes up and gets into a beat. He begins to make faces and grimaces. And how his eyes begin to shine! He smiles. He starts to joke.

— And how are you getting on in English? - questioning mister Norman.
   — I know even two phrases in Russian, - he says proudly.
   — First - “Spasibo” (“thank you”). Second - “Dobryi vecher” (“good evening”).

Oh, Chris! This is already a polite conversation from Your side. How gracious You are, my musical prince. And me... me... hardly can understand what are You singing about! And to my shame (what an ignoramus), I haven't even heard some songs yet. But I will improve. As I have the site whose magicians help me to get to know about everything what had happened and happens at Your musical court.

Chris continues to sing. No, not just sing but do the honours, communicating with his guests after each song. Now he talks with us, now he takes flowers, now he fills the space with running over the guitar strings. Solo and in duet with Geoff Carline. And what an impressive and juicy helper he has. Shannon Callahan. He performes Stumblin'in with her. She moves along the stage by powerful, sweeping motions. Everything is in a power of her hands, both tambourine and guitar. Sturdy, with unruly locks of blond hairs. And a hemstitch lace of her white blouse looks exquisitely and womanly against the background of deafening rock-n-roll compositions.

Then Chris calls us to sing with him. Don`t play your rock`n roll to me... Periodically he moves along the stage from one side to another favouring the audience with his radiant look and splendid smile. He stops at the stage's edge and bends over the audience. He gives himself to everybody lavishly. He peers at our faces. No, no, not into a crowd. He sees our faces. And it seems to me, he likes us. He realize that here we always love him and wait for him. And that the party has turned out well. He has excited us and we have excited him. Chris and us has become a whole one. One breath, one sound, one heart beat. Applause of raised hands, clicking cameras and phones. A total consensus and drive! Someone singing in English in ecstasy together with Chris over my ear. Oh, damn! What a pronunciation! How long did it take him to learn the lyrics so perfectly. That's fans! And then was Midnight Lady. Burning lighters raise over heads. People swaying hands from side to side all at once as if on command. Chris leaves the stage. The hall roars and he comes back to sing another two songs. The concert is over.

But what is the time? It's 23.00 soon. Time to go to the train station. Metro stations flicker, a change for another line, a waiting room, a platform. “Carriage” waiting for me not having turned into a pumpkin. Good shaped conductors in a house styled coats standing near sleepers. And no one of the shoes is lost... All the way I sleep like a log on an upper berth. And here comes Petersburg. I am back home. But songs of Chris are still in my ears and the club's atmosphere is still around me. Am I still there? Or already here? Three cherished discs are lying on my table. Through the fog of euphoria in my head I think: I have done it!!!

So you see, what kind of presents non-fairytale Cinderellas of today make themselves!