I'm not big on concerts anymore. In fact, the only concerts I've attended in the past dozen years or so have been elementary school productions (turns out, they frown upon stage diving).

There aren't many recording artists now I would invest the time, money or hassle to witness live. The Eagles are among the few I consider worth the investment.

We missed the Eagles "Farewell" tour a few years ago (not for lack of trying). So, about five months ago, when the Eagles announced their schedule for their "Long Road Out of Eden" tour, we were surprised to learn Atlanta was their first, and only, U.S. date listed — one night, at a brand new venue, in a northern suburb of Atlanta (avoiding downtown is ALWAYS a plus).

Now, knowing when they'll be here doesn't necessarily equate to obtaining tickets — especially since the new amphitheater in Alpharetta only seats 12,000 (the population of metro Atlanta is over 5 million — that's a 416:1 ticket ratio). However, the night before tickets officially went on sale, my wife stumbled upon an "All Access" Web site that guarantees tickets within 20 rows of the stage (for a price that would make even an oil tycoon cringe). Given our previous failures at obtaining tickets via conventional routes, this option certainly had its appeal, so I bought them. (The catch: we had no idea where our seats were, and we wouldn't know until the day of the show. What's an expensive ticket without a little adventure, eh?)

A few days before the concert, someone from our group called ahead to see if tailgating is permitted. She was told, "Heavens no! This is Alpharetta." So we kept the grills and coolers at home. But when we pulled into the parking lot of the new "Verizon Wireless Amphitheater at Encore Park" (now there's a mouthful), which is nestled in an office park (uncongested by residential cross-streets), we discovered dozens of folks tailgating – right in front of the cops!

When I inquired with one of the enthusiastic parking attendants about tailgating he said, "Better to ask for forgiveness than permission."

Duly noted.

Entering the gates of the amphitheater, it became immediately obvious just how long the Eagles have been around. I felt as though I had stumbled upon a secret convention of chaperones. (Where has the time gone?)

Our seats turned out to be 12 rows back, center-stage (sweet).

When the band members began to take their positions, the crowd hardly broke from their chatter. Then, like a group of nonchalant businessmen in black suits and black ties, Joe Walsh, Don Henley, Glenn Frey and Timothy B. Schmit walked single-file onto center stage. They casually waved, picked up their guitars, briefly conferred, then started with a song from their new album called, "How Long."

The audience stood and cheered. Well, with the exception of the guy next to me (in his khakis and pressed dress shirt). Either his wife just told him she wrecked their yacht, or he's never heard of the Eagles before, because he just stood there with his arms crossed — completely motionless.

During a sequence of some of the Eagles' new songs, everyone sat down. But when they recognized the hauntingly familiar guitar intro to "Hotel California" (played masterfully by Steuart Smith on his twin-neck guitar), and the screen behind the band — which to this point was simply awash in background lighting — became illuminated with the image from the "Hotel California" album cover, the crowd went nuts.

When the lyrics began, Mr. Henley became just another voice in the crowd, as the entire audience (except for the guy next to me, of course) sang in unison, "On a dark desert highway ..."

The moment was surreal. I don't know how many times I've heard this song since its initial release, but seeing it performed live with a chorus of 12,000 adds another dimension.

The last dozen songs of the show were all powerhouse, no seat necessary, big hits. The images on the screen made you almost forget to watch the band. During "Life's Been Good," it featured '70s' snapshots and film footage of the band members doing various things other than performing. (Speaking of Joe Walsh, did you ever notice he's easier to understand when you're drunk?)

The band may have been a little rusty during the first two songs, but they were near recording-studio perfect the rest of the evening. They left the stage after "Rocky Mountain Way", but were beckoned back for a three-song encore by uproarious applause and a waving sea of cell phone lights (a scene that would have made the amphitheater's corporate sponsor proud). We were thrilled with their performance. Though, I can't say that for Mr. Happy next to me.

As we exited the gates, my wife pulled me close and said, "The next time they're in town, we have got to see them again."

I felt my wallet cringe.

Rick Rantamaki lives in Dacula.