Concert catharsis

Sung to the tune of: "California Girls"

The plans you make impulsively..somehow, turn out the be-st

Yesterday, when Jim woke..he said, "this isn't a joke..

but I have.. a strange re-quest..

I realize it's last minute..and we'll get home WAY past dark..

And the tickets..will cost..us..

close to a mil..plus another mil to park...

(Chorus)

But Brian WIlson's coming to play

he'll be just one mere exit away

so c'mon Karen, what do you say??  Let's..go??"

"We'll hear some Beach Boys' music and we'll groove under the stars..

'though we'll breathe in some pot..we'll get the best parking lot..

the kind that just holds twenty cars!

We'll mock each aging Boomer..spread a rumor.. about the band!

We'll look at Carnie's Old Dad..agree, the guy's lookin' bad..

he cannot dance..can hardly stand!..

(Chorus)

But it'll be fun!..there's also "Chicago"

this beats life in old Mar-a-lago!

C'mon wife..I got this whole evening planned!"

OK..no more singing for now..

Jim planned the whole evening..

And..what an evening it was!

The coveted end seat under the canopy is over-rated, because you have to factor in that the boomers in your row have very weak bladders.  Sure, they may remember every lyric to "HELP ME, RHONDA "..but they don't remember to limit their beer intake.

As we breathed in that sweet smell of medical(??) marijuana, we wondered why we saw only Brian Wilson's face, either on the stage or on the big screen.  He was hidden by instruments, but when we were given the opportunity to see a full body shot, the cameraman just made it as brief as possible, focusing on every part of the stage except where the old guy was.

When the floodlights came on, we saw this beloved idol inching his way across the stage... in a walker.  You heard the collective gasp of the audience of boomers, but you could also hear Mr. Wilson snapping at us, flipping the bird. and practically yelling at us, "Hey....

"I GET AROUND"

After what seemed like a three hour intermission, "Chicago" came on, thrilling us with oldies, boring some of us with newbies, and basically setting this part of New Jersey on fire.

I was totally rocking out to "SATURDAY IN THE PARK"..mostly because I was thinking how lovingly Chrissy Metz's Kate Pearson Damon sang the tune with customized lyrics to help her disabled son in what I consider the best episode of "This Is Us" in Season Six.

I was also transported back to 1974, where I'd spend hours in the music library at Temple University,  sobbing quietly, (although not TOO quietly--I was asked to "keep it down" more than once) as I listened to classics like "COLOR MY WORLD" and "BEGINNINGS"..mourning the lost of unrequited love. 

What's more brutal to a hormonal nineteen year old than unrequited love, and knowing that the object of those feelings would haunt her dreams?  And still does?

I better not dream of the crush or Terry Kath tonight, because in that dream, I'd still  be in a one-sided relationship, but I'd be totally naked, running to the classroom to take the English Lit test that I didn't study at all for.

There is no way I can believe that 1974 was forty-eight years ago.

I saw myself and my fellow aging boomers and I couldn't help but wonder, how did this happen?  How did all that time go by?

Are people in their actual  sixties reliving music from the sixties, eating a ninety dollar(Delicious!!) hamburger next to a fellow Boomer who had no idea she was seeing the Beach Boys in addition to "Chicago?"

But..isn't age just a number?

Does anybody really know..what time it is?

Does anybody really care..about time?