I saw a ton of great bands during my junior high and high school years but only a few ticket stubs escaped my mom's house cleaning and my numerous moves through the years. I just enjoyed a really nice but hazy walk down memory lane a moment ago-fueled by these stubs. I think TicketMaster and other resellers should be jailed for the markup they foist upon the public these days.
When I was a teenager someone with a reliable car or someone's mom would go to the venue and buy the tickets for face value and we'd gladly pay up as well as volunteer to pay for gas money or whatever. As long as we got to the venue on time. I was repulsed by all of the cannibis and essentially held my breath when amidst the smoke and haze of such agents-focusing on the bands and the excitement of seeing live performances with minimal props/pyrotechnics.
My first concert ever. B.B.'s mom drove us to Columbia and with one of her neighbor ladies-attended the concert with the six of us. I think B.B. was embarrassed to death. I couldn't have cared less because the whole time we are sitting there I'm not believing that Chuck Negron is right in front of me singing all of the cool Three Dog Night stuff that I played at home on my mom's big ass piece-of-furniture stereo while banging a set of Slingerlands. Wow...after uploading this picture-I see that within a year of me being at the Three Dog Night concert, my mother would be a widow.
Rode to the Allman Brothers concert in J.S.'s Vega. Chevy Vega yep. Not a Cosworth like Toad had but hey-it was a free ride to the concert. I think that Andrew Gold....was it Gold who sang "Oh What a Lonely Boy" or something like that? He opened for the Brothers Allman. My ears are still ringing from this one. What's a Quaalude?
The Doobies-no Michael McDonald performing on October 17, 1985...it was the original bunch...it was good. I played my drums on Doobies songs a lot at home because most of the songs were three or four chords and the beats were white boy friendly. J.H. had a nice car-a new one I think. Her dad was a big money fat cat lawyer in my town so D.N. and I hitched a ride with J.H. and L.M. It was established from the get-go that it was a platonic thang and that they were glad to give us a ride in order to get some help with gas money. I'm just gonna tell you right now that the platonic thang fell through when J.H. started playing with my hair. J.H. ... the girl ... the girl who owned the car. The onliest thing I was guilty of was giving in to her advances. I had big hair-all blow dried up in a 1970's kind of a way.
I got permission to drive to the beach for August 1976 Doobie show. I was dating H.C. at the time and her parents had a place at the beach. We were forbidden to go there...I think her parents thought that if we were in a beach house unsupervised that something might happen. I was a boy on a mission in spite of the admonishment. I mean come on-I'm in to this thang for eight dollars and fifty cents times two plus other expenses.
We were staying at another house where parents were present but somehow-I don't know-it just happened...we ended up at her parent's beach house. Told the other parents we were driving home or something. I mean I didn't say that to the parents-H.C. did. I'd a never done anything like that. She produced the hidden key and I was literally forced inside her parents' beach house. All would have ended well but somehow a pair of my tightie-whities fell out of my duffel bag the next day before we left and her dad found them the next weekend. The picture above is from this approximate time in Mr. Tightie Whitie's journey. He used to burn out a blow dryer every six months getting the curl out of that head of Bee Gees disco hair. Shut up. He wishes he still had that hair.
Z.Z. Top at six bucks and change. Not sure where I came up with all the dough and for the life of me I can't remember how I got to and from this one. What I do remember is that there was one cardboard cactus prop on stage and nothing else but a bunch of strong Texas tonk. The fact that Styx opened for them was laughable.
I get a call from G.S. on Friday morning. He has two Skynyrd tickets and no ride. Three Pony Packs of Miller in the cooler. An old blue V.W. Beetle that I was driving that summer-half a tank of gas and we are good to go. I got pulled on the way back to our town that night-prolly three in the morning. But for the grace of God and my Uncle Doug...my father's younger brother-the one who bought me all of the delightfully inappropriate guns and stuff when I was a little kid. Thanks Uncle Doug for not telling my mama.
I'd really cleaned up my act by the time Fleetwood Mac rolled into town. I went with a few guys from the track team. Athletics is a character builder and for this little misguided teenager who'd lost his dad, Cross Country and Track literally saved me-gave me a new identity. This tour accompanied the release of the Rumors album. Stevie Nicks was probably in her mid twenties back then. She didn't even notice me.
The Eagles...Hotel California tour at almost nine bucks. One of the best concerts I've ever seen...not on par with Paul McCartney and Wings-The Rolling Stones-Eric Clapton but close. J.T. and I went over to Columbia for this one and I can remember eating about ten Slim Jims on the way home.
I sure had fun taking this memory trip.
Onward.
ADG
No comments:
Post a Comment