Get On Do-wn the-e (Nostalgic) Road

 Yes, that is one of the tunes Lady Supreme sang last night at the Bowl, Get On Down the Road, from a movie I never saw, (I could not take the idea of any form of remake of the Wizard of Oz; resister of change that I am) but a song that was everywhere at the time of the movie and soaked into my psyche. And she wore the very dress pictured and four or five after that one. She carried it off at however close to or over 70 she must be at this point. She looked good, my binoculars can attest.

The last two visits to the Bowl have been a nostalgic travelog. Last week, it was Julie Andrews, with a deep voiced Do-Re-Me  (the loss of range apparently courtesy of a botched surgery some 12 years ago), joined by a soprano and tenor supporting cast, that nonetheless brought me back to the Rivoli Theatre in New York watching her do it on screen. I got to be one of Von Trapp kids last week, 'cause yes, we were all singing along! Who'd a thunk it, certainly not me, that one day I'd be across the country, and connect with part of my American childhood so definitively? I wasn't running in the Vienna streets, but pretty close, running in place at the Hollywood Bowl. La, Te, Da!

And then Ms. Ain't No Mountain High Enough Ross asking "Do You Know Where You're Going To?" in her still full bodied voice, among other musical questions and statements. I know. Don't I know, Ms. Ross, my head nodding, "You Can't Hurry Love!" I just gotta wait. Thanks for reminding me.

I have noticed in my last several concert attendances of the comeback, or never left, acts, from days gone by, that they seem to corral a wide age group, from what appear to be those old enough to be my mother (and that is getting harder :) to those young enough to be my grand (gulp) kids. Len Speaks spied a number of gyrating elders and opined that there would be few aching hips in the morning. More than a few.

I like the variety of the crowd. I like the bridge across the River Generations.

We were higher up in that crowd last night, for it was a sell out, as we could tell from the wildly strewn cars in the overstacked lot. It took a lot longer to get out than usual. But that was ok, the people watching was good. I particularly liked the white and straggly long haired old guy with a soft crushed pork pie like hat and several strings of pearls. Not sure what time period exactly he was harking back to, but can't deny his quiet joy as he strolled toward wherever his car was trapped. Somebody in the arthritis section asked if anyone had "weed".

I love it every week, as I have said, ad nauseum, in this blog. A couple of weeks will be passing before the next foray to the benches in the mountain Bowl. Can't wait. Donna Summer, here we come!