Originally, I was thinking of titling this entry, "Grandma and Grandpa Rock On!" because intially the women I saw on Saturday in front of me in Section M (nearly nosebleed section) of the Bowl (and the last outing for the season, alas), were at least sixty-five. The gentleman with them, looked to be, conservatively, seventy. Compared to them, me and my friends were bare youths in our early 50s, and heck, I was having difficulty comprehending just how fast the time had past since our headliners had even seen Billboard Magazine let alone be on the top singles list. So I was including myself in the grandma and grandpa crowd that looked to be wending its way into a Hall and Oates night, with the opening act, the Spinners. It also looked like it wouldn't be close to a full house as we scanned the upper and lower levels and the spaces around us. But then, not only did the baby boomers plus, the baby boomers, show, but the Xers and maybe even a few Ys. I won't count the 6 and 7 year old brother and sister behind us, cause they did not come of their own volition and probably don't know who Justin Timberlake is, let alone, Hall and Oates.
The Spinners spun as of old, one quite bald member giving his all, with the dripping sweat visible to my low level binoculars. But every song, save one, I recognized , had been a hit, is still on every oldie station, and, I could place in a moment of my life. One of the last in their lyrical litany was Rubber Band Man, which brought me back to my Assistant Music Director Days (courtesy of a friend who was music director) in between college and law school at WXLO in New York, 99X, then. My time there, smack in the middle of a staff shake up, re-listing the same 40 songs for the play list, quelled my yearning for radio work, but was a joyous experience, if only for the chance to see Barry Manilow being interviewed and to get an ambiguous grunt of hello from Jay Thomas, then a pretty popular DJ. And while I was working there, I did get a chance to see Queen--we are the champions of the world- for free at Madison Square Garden. I have come to appreciate them more in later life than I did at the time. I am a really late bloomer. . . .
The Spinners had hit after hit---their songs permeated my college and early working life. When Hall and Oates came out, after what one of my companions called "the shortest Hollywood Bowl intermission in history" (I was still at the concession stand and contemplating a purchase of something that flashed colorful light at the Bowl store, in commemoration of my last sojourn there for the year), the audience was primed. And, except for the fact that "Private Eyes" was never played, they delivered. It wasn't until the first encore that the 30 somethings behind us finally had their shouts of "Rich Girl" quelled. And they did a couple of songs, like "Me and Mrs. Jones" that weren't originals to them, but we didn't care as we sang the chorus together, all generations, "Me and Mrs. Jones ssssssssss, we have THANG goin' onnnnnnn on." At the more energetic moments, the audience, even in the circle, where they are usually the most well behaved staid, got up and danced.
It was-almost-raucous. I felt positively ageless. My friend said that there were going to be a lot of people taking geritol in the morning from all the retro bumping and grinding.
I was fine in the morning. 25 of my 50 something years had melted away!
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