Sweet Baby James

Some things just make you feel old.  Like realizing the last concert you went to was 30 years ago.  Billy Joel, 1986 (or maybe early '87) in Montreal.  I used to go to a fair few concerts but that was back in the days when you had to line up for tickets and actually had a shot at getting some.  Not like the rip-off computer system in use today.  Okay sure, maybe it allows people who don't live near the big venues to have a shot at tickets, but only if the scalpers haven't overloaded the system mere nanoseconds after they go on sale -- the recent ticket release for The Tragically Hip being a prime example.  The majority of the tickets appear to have gone to people who will now turn around and sell them at grotesquely inflated prices.  A guy I know knows a guy who paid $2,000 -- hope that was for a pair at least.  I remember back in the day (early 80's ish) being appalled at having to pay $15 to see Supertramp, when tickets for a concert routinely sold for $12.50.

So I guess the answer (aside from boycotting the secondary sellers) is to go to concerts that have lesser appeal for the masses.  Apparently James Taylor falls into that category, though I can't figure out why.  Top notch show from a guy who's been around for almost 50 years and still sounds amazing.  A guy who's still putting out new stuff.  Sure, he's got a little less hair now...okay, a lot less hair.  Then again, so did a large percentage of the male fans in the audience.  But I was amazed at the number of people in my age category, or within 10 years either side, who said, "Who?" when I told them I was going to see James Taylor.  Really?  Fire And Rain?  You've Got A Friend?  Carolina In My Mind?  Sweet Baby James? Ringing any bells?  No, eh...too bad for you. I'd see him again in a heartbeat.

And while I'm ranting about scalpers and ticket prices, let me just get this off my chest.  You pay good money to go to a concert.  That's what, about three hours when YOU DONT NEED TO BE ON YOUR PHONE, FFS!  Has 'being in the moment' become a thing of the past?  The woman beside me spent the better part of the first set scrolling through Facebook and checking stuff on Google.  She applauded by tapping her right hand against her left shoulder, while continuing to scroll with her thumb, never looking up the whole time.  I shake my head.

Was it the best concert ever?  Nope, that distinction probably goes to Paul McCartney, but the Paul McCartney of the early 70's.  Maybe it was just seeing him so close in time to the Beatles breakup.  But there was something magical about that night.  I can't remember but it might even have been my first concert.

Worst concert ever?  That's a toss up between Chicago and Chris de Burgh. Yeah, I know...who?

Best concert that never was?  Quick story -- the aforementioned elusive McCartney tickets were obtained courtesy of a salesman who used to come into a place I worked part time.  He told me he had a connection at Maple Leaf Gardens and to let him know if I ever wanted concert tickets.  Queen.  Could he get me tickets for Queen?  The day of the concert came and went.  I didn't hear from him.  Oh well.  Shortly thereafter he came into the office.  'How did you enjoy the Queen concert?' he asked.  'I didn't have tickets,' I replied.  'I left them at the box office for you,' he said.  Now he tells me.  Breaks my heart to this day to think of those empty seats.

Empty seats that my ass should have been in.


Book Review:  I picked up A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay because Stephen King recommended it in a Facebook post.  (Pretty sure he actually posts that stuff himself because he's always posting pics and stuff about his dog, Molly aka the Thing of Evil.)  Well he didn't actually recommend it.  He was congratulating Tremblay for winning the Stoker Award and saying, told you it was good.  And it was.  Plays with your brain.  And the ending?  No neat bow on this one.  I'm still trying to figure it out.