Long-ago, rock concerts joined the prohibited list. Trying to squeeze a few more bucks out of the monthly budget, we had kids who would soon-enough need money for college, for trips, and for all manner and sort of athletic-logoed apparel. Besides, I told myself, I’d seen most of the greats; and the prices for tickets had inflated to the point where one struggled to justify.
As the years passed, the budget became a little more comfortable and the college fund fattened. But somehow, rock concerts did not find the way back to front-of-mind. Instead, we were more often attending performances from the American songbook – Tony Bennett, Michael Feinstein, Diana Krall, and others filled our entertainment allotment.
But as often happens when we allow our lives to slide into cruise control, someone reminds us to take back the wheel. News of Fleetwood Mac’s reunion and tour had reached me some months earlier. The venerable band would even find its way to Bankers’ Life. Tickets were pricy. And, I can be kind of tight. But, then came the call. Good friends found themselves with a “spare” set of seats – perfectly situated for my bride and me. They invited us to join them and insisted that it be their treat. Understandably, I could not have been happier to get the call and was delighted in their generosity as we’d seen the band on its last all-original tour 16 years ago.
The concert beat even the highest expectations. The 60-plus-year-old rockers, entertained us for three hours non-stop. The crowd, while fully engaged, was notably older. Even as the experience returned me to another place and time, it was a sanguine reminder that those days are past. Good. They were good days. But I wonder, do we need a new band to make new good days?