Although he needed a bit of prodding, Hubbyloo agreed to a night at the bowl for one of Hollywood Bowl’s series events. Not only did he have some work to take care of, but his expectations of this show were below the levels that usually allow him to gleefully agree to my proposals. We went nevertheless.
It was quite a different experience than what we’re used to at the Bowl. It was the first time (remember my resolution?) we went to one of the Hollywood Bowl events, which meant that we got to witness the Bowl season pass-holders crowd – a completely different energy than the usual crowd seen at a lease event, say Billy Joel (whom we’ve seen in May), or any other concert. Like that was not enough, this particular event was the 50th anniversary of the Beatles’ first concert at this venue and there were quite a few among us who had been there on August 23, 1964. You can get an idea what the median age of the crowd was. We couldn’t help but be inappropriate and crank some jokes about old age.*
I’d say, “Huh? An intermission? I guess, some of us need to fill our oxygen tanks.” He’d try to trump me by saying, “I wonder how many people die on a night like this.” As we were chatting, an alarm goes off on stage. “Nap time is over! The show’s about to start again!”*
If the crowd was not necessarily our type, the concert in itself was good. It started slow, with a bunch of no-names who, although quite talented, were assigned all the wrong songs for their styles, voice ranges and singing abilities. For me – it made no difference. I am so over the moon about The Beatles music that I was singing along without caring much about the quality of the performances. Hubbyloo… he’s a different story, he was worse than Simon Cowell on American Idol. We both agreed that Vanessa Amorosi was the star of the show, Liv Warfield had an amazing voice, and Allen Stone’s performance of one song in particular was startlingly impressive. Dave Stewart should stick to guitar-playing. And Billy Ray Cyrus to country music. Although we owe it to him that the atmosphere among the seniors got groovy at one point during the show.
They also played my all-time Beatles favorite song: ”I Wanna Hold Your Hand”. That song gives me goose bumps every time I listen to it. Should it be one of those days, when my hormones are out of whack, I may very well cry. How sweet, and innocent, and warm the thoughts of these twenty-something-year olds, when they were writing this song 50+ years ago. How comforting to imagine, while listening to it, men out there timidly asking for permission to hold your hand; and to know that “that something” you’ve got going drives them so crazy that they want to… *gasp* hold your hand. Sweet, no? A completely different dimension of feelings than those triggered by meatheads like Robin Thicke, who’s convinced “you want it” and he’s ready to give it to you. Or Akon and Snoop Dog who skip the hand-holding and profess their ultimate desire “I Wanna F&%$ You”. Idiots. (Disclaimer: When this song came out, I was a drunken college girl with questionable taste in music, and I am guilty of the “winding and grinding” mentioned in the song, among, quite likely, other things…)
I’m definitely looking forward to next year’s Beatles show at the Bowl. I’ll be there with my bells on. I’m happy just to listen to their music.
*Try not to get your knickers in a twist, would ya? We meant no disrespect. We have old people in our own families, most of them can take a harsher sense of humor such as ours. They smile and laugh. Which, if we are to trust these scientists, allows them to become even older.