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I admit it. I’m guilty. I have Old School taste — especially in music. I love the toe-tapping tunes of pop radio. I sing mournfully along with sappy ballads. I rock out in my car, at stoplights, to exuberant strains of 80’s dance hits.
I am sure I was the toddler doing the squat bop and sway to my mother’s records. The right tune will lift my mood, and stop me mid-task to hum along. Just like a scent that takes you back at a moment’s notice.
What genre? Well, I am a product of my generation: I love rock and roll.
I’ve purchased 8-track tapes, cassettes, vinyl, cds, and downloaded to my iPod. The mega-star rockers of my day composed a 1,000 top tunes that at any given moment I’d gleefully give audience to.
I’ve been to coliseums, theaters, meadows, bowls, and even a Day on the Green, or two.
What can be nearly as fun as a great trip to an amazing concert adventure? Ummm don’t judge, but I love a good tribute band and a dance floor: no parking hassles, intimate size, great ticket prices, and all my favorite music. And usually performed PDC (pretty damn close) to the celebrity front man.
If it’s not “The” thing, why do I like it so much? I think the dancing is just as good, giggling and swaying close to a friend and getting sweaty, and maybe (here and there) getting a touch overserved. I also get off on watching some local folk who LOVE music belt out a classic with the same enthusiasm as the man who wrote it. And most of all it takes me back — like that scent — not quite to the original, but definitely an enduring experience.
Am I a music snob? Yes and No. I expect a supremely finished product from a world-class professional. All. The. Time. But, my homeboys?A strong and practiced effort, lots of enthusiasm, and clear enjoyment of the music is the bar of entry.
Give me a cover band paying homage to a music god, a glass of wine, and a pair of sexy boots, and you’ve given me a day as delightful as they come.
I mean, I just want to celebrate another day of living. Oh ohhhh. I just want to celebrate .
