On
my mother’s birthday each year since her passing, I get a little melancholy. I
usually don’t plan much on that day, having made the mistake once shortly after
her death, of booking a first time co-writing session in which, if memory
serves me correctly, I think I spent most of the time trying not to cry -
unsuccessfully. Yeah, no song got written that day.
But
life has a funny way of mellowing us over time, and things that used to make me
cry now make me laugh. Take, for instance, the story about a relative who, upon
hearing the eulogy I wrote for my mother's funeral, asked me, “Did you ever think about
becoming a writer?” Hilarious.
This
year, instead of reflecting for the entire day on assorted memories of her love
of ballroom dancing, anything dark blue, and movies where the underdog triumphantly
prevails, I did something decidedly different from previous years – I went to a
concert, a Kenny Loggins concert, to be precise.
I
think I can safely say that my mother had no idea who Kenny Loggins is. (I came
out of the womb singing the entire score to Funny
Girl, which I’m certain, was very entertaining to people around me during
my toddler years.) But I know she
would be happy that I was doing something fun, and something musical, and
something with my friend, Jeryl, whom she adored.
Now,
there’s a little bit of a history with me and a couple of concerts Mr. Loggins
played last year. It involved a new band he started, an article I wrote for the
Huffington Post, a chance meeting, an elephant, a stick of gum, and a mostly
one-sided conversation. Okay, I threw the elephant and stick of gum in there
just to see if you were paying attention.
If
you’re new to this blog, well, first, thanks for stopping by. And second, to catch
up on that whole backstory, here’s the link to one of my all-time favorite blog
posts http://ileneangel.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-kenny-loggins-blog.html …which led to
this joint HuffPost piece http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kenny-loggins/blue-sky-riders_b_2007436.html
and http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ilene-angel/kenny-loggins_b_2007280.html…which led to…jeeze,
this is exhausting, so I’m stopping now. You’ll just have to Google.
So
back to last night. My friend Jeryl and I headed to the concert at Yonkers
Raceway or Empire City Casino, as it’s now called. We parked in a lovely
section of the vast expanse that I believe was called “China,” and we started
hiking. Sure, the security guy told us there were shuttles, but a) shuttles are
for sissies, and b) I remembered that I forgot to lose those the 30 pounds I’d
been meaning to by the end of the summer, so win/win with the hiking.
We
got to our amazing seats just before seven to hear the opening act, Blue Sky
Riders, comprised of Gary Burr, Georgia Middleman, and yes, Kenny Loggins. (You
can read this HuffPost review of
their album to see just how much I love this band. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ilene-angel/blue-sky-riders-finally-home_b_2569825.html
)
The
only thing was we were about two of twelve people there for the opening act. I
kid you not. The tickets said 8 o’clock, so people didn’t know about the opener,
or that there was an opener, or that
Kenny was in it, even.
So
picture walking out on stage, pumped to play your set, excited to share your
new music, looking out at a vast array of…empty seats. Oy. I felt awful for
them. I tried to singlehandedly make up for the throngs of adoring fans that
weren’t there, but that was a fool’s errand. To their credit, they kicked ass
and lived up to every glowing thing I said about them in my review. And I’m
sure they’ll take home fond memories of playing Yonkers. I know I do.
By
the time the headliner came out, the entire place was packed. Out walked Kenny
to perform his concert of wall-to-wall iconic hits, woven together seamlessly
with the perfect amount of humorous banter in between, and sung to the kind of
perfection that only a true veteran can achieve. (I know, you should see what I
write when I really like someone’s
performance.)
The
crowd sang along, hooted, hollered, and everything else one is supposed to do
at these types of events. Me, I wondered about things like can the performer
hear the audience doing any of that stuff out in the open night air? Or does it
just look like a bunch of people moving their lips? And which of his hits does he still love the most, and which does
he wish he never had to do again. Me, I’ve got my own personal favorite song of
his.
The
ninety-or-so minutes seemed to me to be like five. But I knew by the time
everyone was on their feet dancing to “Footloose” that the concert was winding
down.
Jeryl
and I went to the gated area to go backstage. And by “backstage,” I mean behind
the trailers parked on the racetrack.
Oh, the glamour of it all. This year I wasn’t crashing. We actually had passes.
So after the radio contest winners, and the fan club members, and some other
grouping we couldn’t quite identify, we were ushered in.
I
would like a huge drum roll now, please, for all of you waiting with baited
breath to find out whether or not I was able to carry on an actual conversation
this time with Kenny Loggins…………yes, I could…I mean, I did!
But
first, I have to just say a word about my friend, Jeryl. We met at a performing
arts camp when we were 13. So this is a friendship that has spanned quite a
while. In fact, it was at this performing arts camp that Jeryl, having listened
to me play and sing my songs in a little practice room, went to the camp
director and told them I needed to perform my songs in a concert…which I did…which
changed the course of my life forever.
Fast
forward a lot of years to me sending her a 35 page draft of a “book” and asking
her if she thought this could be an actual book. (She had become a journalist –
after studying acting at NYU and getting a law degree, slacker that she is.) If
she had said no, I would have trusted her and let it go, but the thing is, she
emphatically said yes! And once again, the course of my life was forever
altered by her boundless enthusiasm for what I do.
So
here we are backstage at a Kenny Loggins concert, and I have no idea how this
whole interaction is gonna play out. But given what I just told you about Jeryl
in the prior two paragraphs, I should have foreseen that it might involve her
telling Kenny Loggins that I’m the
greatest songwriter ever and generally extolling my genius, in addition to his, of course. (This is why you bring a
friend.) Bless her heart, if she could have, she would have pulled up two
chairs and made us write a song together right there. (That did not happen, by
the way.)
So
the three of us chatted amicably for a few minutes, took a picture together for
posterity, and parted ways so Jeryl and I could hike back to my car. It was a
far cry from a year earlier, when I think I managed to only eke out a few guttural
noises in lieu of actual words.
I
know that Kenny maintains a grueling touring schedule, and that launching a new
band is an uphill battle in today’s music industry. But if you want to see how
it’s supposed to be done at its
finest, go get yourself a ticket and see him on the road. And for the love of
God, come early and see Blue Sky Riders. You will be so glad you did. I know I
am.
So
thank you to Jeryl and to Kenny for making September 8th this year
so filled with joy.
To
my beloved readers, thanks for stopping by. And please tell your friends.
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