July 1, 1983
Just a sprinkle of pixie dust
Peter pan had the right idea.
Well, maybe not the right idea completely ... after all, there is some growing up required of us all. Enough to get bills paid, kids fed, mortgages paid and responsibility taken for our own actions. But it's not written anywhere either that we have to abandon all the joys of being kids.
The above is a rationalization for my behavior last weekend. What it really comes down to is the cold fact that I'm a teeny-bopper at heart. A screaming, clapping, dancing, singing, unadulterated fan. Grownups snicker and point at old people like me who don't know enough to "act your age." I, in turn, pity those folks who don't let much of anything really turn them on.
Chicago (that's the rock group, not the city) really turns me on.
My girls and I had tickets to their concert at the Mann Music Center in Philadelphia last Friday night. We bought them one hour after they went on sale the Monday after Mothers’ Day. The seats were terrible for some reason, but the music was better than ever.
For the uninitiated, the group has been around since the late 60s. Some of their classics include Saturday in the Park, Color My World, If You Leave Me Now, etc., etc. Sixteen albums filled with music produced by a group of professional, highly trained, incredibly talented people.
Since 1977, only one year as gone by that my kids and I have missed seeing the group live somewhere in the area. And that year, Chicago didn't tour, due to the sudden death of one of their members and the need to regroup, redefine their purpose and try to recapture the magic.
Last weekend, they proved again that the magic is still alive. More vibrant, a heavier sound, perhaps, but as stirring and inspired as ever. After some trial and error with people to replace Terry Kath … including a best-be-forgotten teaming up with a flashy, loud and unclassy guitarist … the group has come together with Bill Champlin, a well-known composer, guitarist/keyboard pro, who brings a new dimension to Chicago’s music. At the rate the band is going, with its new depth and old creativity and style, Chicago will be around as long we want it to be.
Not only did the girls and I enjoy the band in Philadelphia, we fit in another of their tour performances at the Garden State Arts Center in Holmdel the next night. And there we found out just how different we are.
Imagine, if you will, an outdoor concert bowl, seating several thousand people, with lawn space available for several hundred … filled to capacity (except for the odd side seats that never sell because the stage isn’t visible from that vantage point). Filled to capacity with people who are unmoved, unenthusiastic and unemotional. What the band saw from that stage was a throng of motionless bodies, hands folded in laps, an occasional sway or clap from someone back at the top. With three exceptions. The girls and I … on our feet … enjoying their music to the hilt … and letting them know it.
Our enthusiasm merited a wave from the lead singer as the one and only encore reached midpoint. We realized later that it was a kind of apology to us because the band left the stage permanently after only one number. Why, after all, stay to expend such energy on a crowd that seemed so bored? Those people paid dearly, as had we, to hear Chicago. Obviously, they were not caught up in the spirit of the music as we were, but they could just as easily have stayed home and listened to an album.
Hopefully, Holmdel will remain on the tour next year, in spite of its coldness. No matter, the girls and I will be wherever the band is, waiting for the magic to repeat itself so we can, for one or two nights out of the year, forget worries, troubles, work, studies, anything that isn’t joyful, and immerse ourselves in the fabulous music Chicago produces.
Each year, I’m reminded by someone that it isn’t mature and adult of me to act like a teenage groupie at concert time. Each year, I listen to this band and experience the thrill of their talent and say phooey on anyone who can’t appreciate to the fullest the impact great music has on one’s soul.
Next year, the seats will be better and the three of us will be ready to enjoy the concert again.
I just may never grow up.
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