There were nine of us on the thread, all buddies from Sheepshead Bay from as far back as the early 70's. Angel, the heavy metal glamsters with the infamous Punky Meadows on guitar are scheduled to play the day after my birthday in March. Along with Punky is original lead vocalist Frank DiMino, who apparently still sounds the way he did when we all saw them at The Palladium in 1978. So, "who wants to go?"
I think the majority of us on this text knew exactly what this night would be; an excuse to get together, and oh look, Angel is playing, too. Logistics and a "procedure" excused a few. But we managed five affirmatives, which is the good news. But what I am still thinking about are the declines. Those who said no said so because they are "too old for this shit." That bothers me.
It's hard to ignore the recent passing of so many of our rock heroes. Since 2015, the roster of giants we lost is the size of a Vermont phone book. And I am not in denial. I am aware of the new twinges and muscle aches that I don't recall having two years ago, along with a few other "things" best left for the professionals. But if I am walking and breathing and have two moderately working ears, I am all in for whatever is out there--music, dancing, dining---sign me up, especially if I am accompanied by people I love. You'll have to take me out on a stretcher before I stop participating in all the great things in life.
Last night was opening night of the E Street Band tour. Whenever I think about it, I get angry. Then, it saddens me. I was checking the set list as it was unfolding live. I was lying on the couch in the dark, watching "The Drowning Pool" with Paul Newman, refreshing the set list page. I won't spoil it for you fat cats out there, who might be attending multiple nights, but it is a killer set list. I don't know why I was torturing myself. I was really enjoying "The Drowning Pool." It takes place in New Orleans. There was a brief Tommy McLain sighting. But, I needed to know what I would be missing. Then it hit me. I'm not "too old for this shit." I'm too poor.
I was also scrolling through Instagram and noticed friends, and friends of friends "pre-gaming" in Tampa. I have friends who booked a weekend in Orlando for that show, which actually costs less than a pair of tickets for Bruce in NYC. Jealous? Yes, of course. Happy for them? I guess. But as I watched the set list unfold in real time, I kept thinking, "I should be there. I've paid my dues, damnit!" But alas, even tickets through my "connection" will cost a cool $900 a pair, face value!
Maybe I'm not too old for "this shit." I think I'm too old for "that shit." All of those Bowie ticket stubs in that photo cost a total of $800. I wish I had 900 disposable bucks, as an experiment. I wonder if I'd be able to just hand it over without any pangs of guilt to my Bruce "in" for that pair of house seats. Or, would I hang onto it like Jack Benny, refusing to let go because maybe, I wouldn't be able to justify the unreasonable cost, even if he did do "E Street Shuffle," "Kitty's Back" and "Rosalita."
