A Visit from the Spirit of Concerts Past

"You realize," I told Mr. Ginley, "that we were our kid's age when this was going on."

We'd been skimming the four DVDs from the Live Aid Concert, which aired July 13, 1985.

"Can you believe that pink suit? Look at those shoulder pads!"

Madonna was the original cutie pie, bedazzling in costume jewelry, big hair and punky wardrobe.

Freddie Mercury then David Bowie, each in turn owned the audience. They didn't need strobe lights or special effects. I'm not too proud to say I cried. They don't make 'em like that anymore.

We watched The Who, and Roger Daltry in all his hunkinesss.

Elton John, banging away on the piano. I still have a hard time deciphering his lyrics. And so odd when he sang the duet with Kiki Dee, he on the keys, she on the opposite side of the stage.

Dire Straits doing Money for Nothing. And Sultans of Swing -- a real crowd pleaser.

Eric Clapton performing Layla (he was separated from Pattie Boyd by that time).

Duran Duran...I wonder if my brother, Paul, still listens to them every now and again.

Tom Petty. (Sigh.)

Mr. Ginley asked me, "Do you ever look back and feel like you were a different person?"

No, I don't think so. But sometimes I do ache for my younger self. For the echoes of music past. For a time when I rocked and rolled with the punches.

I think I'll put on my bolo necklace, fluff up my hair and carpe diem like a rock star.

I love rock 'n roll.  Sing it with me, JJ.