A few years ago, a social media quiz asked everyone to share a link and list their 5 favorite concerts of all time. I was amused at how my own list would have changed depending on when I answered. I didn't make it to many shows in my younger days. In high school, that number was exactly "0". It wasn't until college that I'd finally chalked up some musical acts: Marshall Tucker, Bocephus, and Jimmy Buffett. But I'd still have to pad the list with some very non-standard musical groups such as the Atlanta and New Orleans Philharmonic Symphonies in order to make the full five.
Ironically, it wasn't until after I married Andrea, who had an even more musically isolated youth than I did, that I started racking up the concert stats. Eric Clapton, Bob Seger, and ZZ Top among others were added to my catalog of attended shows. We also hit Manhattan Transfer, though, so that might count as a -1.
One of my oldest buds and defacto big brother, Noel, reached out and offered some special seats to me a while back. Knowing my affinity for the great bearded ones, he had tickets to ZZ Top when they were playing out his way in San Diego. Unfortunately, because we were all in the middle of COVID protocols, any unnecessary traveling, let alone mass gatherings, was highly discouraged.
This was not the first time I'd missed a kick-ass show with Noel. Back in high school, he gifted me a ticket to Motley Crue when they played Biloxi. I was actually holding the ticket in my hand and about to walk out the door when Mom asked where I was going. You know that scene from Platoon where the guy is running for cover? He's almost to safety but gets fragged at the last moment, and he drops to his knees with his hands in the air. That was me.
So close, but yet, so far. Here's the thing about Mom. I love her to death, but her musical speed was more along the lines of Barbara Mandrell and Jim Reeves. The hardest thing she'd probably ever heard was Elvis Presley's "American Trilogy". When I told her about seeing the Crue in concert, she had no idea who I was talking about. "Tell me about their music. Do I know any of their songs?"
When some of the band's biggest hits are "Girls, Girls, Girls", "Shout at the Devil", and "Smoking in the Boys Room", I sensed my plans for the evening had just changed. Sure enough, after Mom recovered from the shock of the brief discography, my concert attendance was summarily vetoed.
Fast forward a few decades, and Noel tags me in a post a couple of months ago basically saying, "Wish you were here." He's at a concert with an incredible lineup.
This time, I had no excuse. Missing out on a great show was annoying enough, but it was really just a secondary concern. What was really eating at me was I'd now missed 3 opportunities to just hang with one of my oldest friends.
I told Andrea, "I really need to get out to San Diego." I knew our 2022 travel budget was already allocated - and even blown after our recent romp through bourbon country. But before Labor Day 2023, I'm hoping to be breaking bread and raising toasts to the old days with my big brother. A wise man once said, "Don't need nothing but a good time." He's not entirely wrong, but good times are immensely better in the company of old friends.
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