And the group members, elegantly costumed in tailor-made Juicy Couture suits with appliquéd D insignias evoked pathos among the 30's and 40's crowd with their 90's number one hit ballad "Ordinary World" which took on even more somberness with LeBon's introduction: "I see the news, and watch the war and the suffering, and see how they try to use fear to rule us, and it strikes me that some generation will say I'm not afraid to reach out to people different than me".

But before a tear could drop, the mood was elevated again with a rousing rendition of "Reach Up for the Sunrise" off 2004's "Astronaut" album, which got the crowd's arms swaying as LeBon shook a tambourine in accompaniment.

There was also a bit of prerequisite drama during "Girls on Film", when one female fan became girl on stage, rushing at LeBon from behind and grabbing his junk -- before being pulled off stage by security.

But the real scene for me happened post-show, backstage. As I sat in wait for the band to appear, there was a rising feeling of anticipation in my chest. Thankfully, I had an abundant supply of Xanax and a cocktail at hand.

As the band emerged from their dressing rooms, it was fandemonium among the two-dozen "V.I.P.'s" But I took care to approach each one conscientiously -- I am a journalist for fuck's sake, so I have a reputation to uphold -- starting with keyboardist Nick Rhodes, who I'd phone interviewed twice before.

After Nick and I talked about the differences between Duran Duran's "Timba-Lake"-produced album vs. Madonna's Hard Candy, namely that the former managed to hang on to their sound through the process, while Madonna seemed to lose herself under the weight of the highly sought-after producer's trademark sound.

But before I knew it, I was posing for pictures with the band, at which time I told drummer Roger Taylor how glad I was that he was back in the fold, and attempted to remind John about our Noah's Bagels encounter, now 11 years ago. But he was mostly interested in talking about how the retail chain has suffered since diversifying their products.

One of the funniest moments of the night occurred when after one pursed-lipped picture with the group, LeBon told me, "Awww, you pouted. You could have been a member of Duran Duran."

"Oh Simon," I retorted, "Don't make a promise you can't..." Maybe it was the pill and alcohol combo or maybe it was my nervousness, but I just couldn't think of the word to end the cliché. As soon as "keep" entered my mind, it was too late. By then the singer was off, conversing with another fan.

Roger was the hot one. -- Editor

I'd say it was all very surreal, but that would be just another cliché. All I can say is that for the remainder of the weekend, I felt "Hungry (Like the Wolf)"-over as my serotonin levels were replenishing after the extraordinary experience.

But somehow it all felt very destined. It was as if the band's 30 years and mine were somehow leading up to this moment despite my Nintendo misjudgment 24 years ago.

All these years later, I can't even recall what happened to that old video game console that once meant so much to me. It's just a careless memory now. But Duran Duran is not just for adolescence, they're for life.