If any of you took the time to read the multi-part blog/short story, you would know that I have seen Pink Floyd. In addition to seeing "The Wall" at Nassau Coliseum, I saw The Animals show at Madison Square Garden. I saw Bowie. Diamond Dogs tour; Mark Giordano should know that. And the Station to Station tour.
I saw the Eagles with Heart, and The Little River Band at The Meadowlands. I saw The Ramones multiple times. CBGB's was where you needed to see them. And yes, all the original members were in attendance Carl Aslaksen. I saw The Pretenders at The Ritz in NYC. All the original members were still alive. They were just beginning their first tour after the release of their first album. I had to give the doorman $50 to let me and my date in. It was so overcrowded that you moved about without moving about. I've seen Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers multiple times. So significant is his music, and the shows I attended, I have written a short story called "The Tom Petty Thread" that I hope to one day get published. If you needed more than the recent picture; I have seen Joan Jett at least 15 times, at various levels of celebrity, thus importance and size of venue have been of various levels. Next is the guess that flummoxed most of those who took the time to venture a guess. I did indeed see Marilyn Manson.
This was after their second album came out. Brian Warner (Marilyn's given name), s from Boca Raton, Florida. He and I went to the same dentist. When they played The Pompano Beach Amphitheater, a small venue of sorts, I decided to go. I was 40 at the time. Wore goth makeup even. A woman who's son's played baseball with mine, was appalled when I showed up at the optimist club wearing a concert t-shirt. She questioned how could I listen to such trash. Well, I grew up listening to Alice Cooper, the precursor to Marilyn Manson. What was the difference? They were both laughing all the way to the bank. I asked her what type of artist she listened to. She said "classic rock." "Like who?," I delved further. She replied, "like Jackson Browne." My rapier like wit retorted, "Oh, the wife beater." Thus ending the conversation of judging a book by its cover.
The picture accompanying this blog is who I never have seen . . . ever. Not in their dozens of tours over the years. I just was never so inclined. Being part of the punk thing, I saw The Clash first, after the release of "London Calling" at Bond's in NYC before the fire department cancelled the rest of the shows. I saw them again on the pier in NY with my future ex-wife after the release of "Combat Rock." When lightning struck the Hudson River during the playing of "Straight to Hell." It poured. People scrambled for cover. We were already soaked, so we stayed. They played two more songs. Joe Strummer said, "It's seems like we got a bit o'rain." Lastly, I saw Bruce, "The Boss," Springsteen. I'm from NJ, it would be utter sacrilege had I not seen him at least once. I was not fortunate to have seen him at The Stone Pony" in Asbury Park, before his meteoric rise to fame following "Born to Run." So, I saw him then, at The Bottom Line, where one time, I also saw Lou Reed. There, one exercise in social media mindlessness deserves another.
