Rock and Roll - Save Me

“And on a night when I needed to feel young, he made me feel like I was hearing music for the very first time” (Jon Landau’s famous music review after seeing a relatively unknown Bruce Springsteen perform in Boston, May 1974)

Tonight, I felt the same way.

Lauren and I saw Elton John perform his timeless AM friendly radio hits, some deep FM album tracks, as well as a few songs from his new CD, The Diving Board, for a pre-Thanksgiving sold-out audience.  He and his band are currently touring in support of the 40^th Anniversary of the release of his seminal double album – Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. 

I was 11 years old, a shy and naïve sixth grader at Florence V. Evans junior high school when this album was released.  My family moved from Northeast Philadelphia to Marlton, New Jersey in 1971.  One year earlier I was enrolled at the St. Joan of Arc parochial school.  My early New Jersey experience was one of few friends, listening to my transistor radio and developing this obsession with rock and roll.   I often closed my bedroom door and listened to my “friends” on the radio.  Nobody, especially my parents understood what was going on.  Funny, when it was happening, to me this seemed like normal behavior. 

“I remember when rock was young....”

Tonight, my objective was straightforward and simple.  First, I wanted to hang-out with my only daughter catching-up on our lives over bar food and drinks.   Next I wanted to experience our first Elton John show together.  This time last year we were enjoying our first Dave Matthews Band show together.  I am very thankful that she still lets me be an active part of her life, that we can communicate as adults and that music (hers and mine) continues to bring us together.  That was certainly not the arrangement my parents had with me when I was 21 years old.   (My parents: “Turn down that goddamn music, it’s time for dinner.”)

Selfishly, tonight I wanted to celebrate being alive.  I wanted to sing (no shout) out the lyrics to these songs that have brought me joy over the past 40 years.  I wanted to be in the company of my daughter as well as a willing active participant of the larger music loving audience.  I wished to experience a “live” unscripted rock show for three hours, before I was forced to eventually return to my predictable life of adult responsibilities.   Even at this age, I still feel a “rush” when I’m at a rock concert and I’m able to see and feel certain songs “come-to-life”.   (My parents: “I don’t understand why you want to go to the concert…you have all the albums.”)

Tonight, when the band launched into certain songs, I wanted to be reminded of my childhood and my schoolmates who came-of-age with me when these songs played on the radio, in our basements, at dances and in the car when we were small and the world was big.  I wanted to watch my daughter react and enjoy certain songs that she has been able to appreciate while she has grown up listening to this music.  And when she wasn’t looking, I wanted to catch a glimpse of her so that I could remember what it was like to be 21 years old again. 

“Dreaming of the Chevy and my old blue jeans…….”

Tonight, I wanted to be young, not so much in the physicality of youth, trimmer and fit with a more handsome appearance, but to have a chance to recapture a glimpse of my youthful innocence and the freedoms that came part and parcel with being a teenager, knowing nothing had yet been decided back then and my life was still full of promise and possibilities.  I wanted to be transported back to a time in my life when I listened to the lyrics and music with my heart and not my ears, when this teenager could envision an idyllic world of love, hope, peace and dreams. 

Tonight, I needed to be a 21 year old, not a 51 year old.  And the music and companionship of my daughter delivered!

Later today our nation celebrates Thanksgiving. 

I have been the recipient of countless blessings during the first five decades of my life, including good health and the love of close friends and family.  These priceless gifts are not lost on me given the recent knowledge of loss and uncertainty that has befallen three of my friends from various parts of my post-teenage life.  My life that occurred when this album was released, when I was insulated from these harsh cruel realities no longer survives.  I can no longer exist alone in my room.  I need friends and family to help me celebrate when times are good and to provide me comfort when times are not good.   We all do.    

Surrounded by aging parents and friends as well as having experienced a few personal health scares over the past 18 months, I know my time is coming soon.  I’ve enjoyed many carefree “seasons” of play, soon however it will be time to pay.  Instinctively, I’m trying to run as fast as I can, but I will not be able to run forever.  I recently learned the “end” often comes unannounced.  It is painful and indiscriminate.  Sometimes there’s just nothing you can do or say.  So, in that regard my goal remains to “live-in-the-moment” and savor experiences with my daughter (and wife) when they happen.  And that includes things as silly, juvenile and inconsequential as a rock concert with my daughter.

 
"I never knew me a better time and I guess I never will….”

Actually, that is not true.  Tonight, I did.