Old Man Rock

Woke up to a real gamey cup o joe this am, folks. As it turns out, your humble scribe forgot to change the filter which was full of soggy, day-old grinds. Deee-licious. I suppose that's what I should expect after coming home from NYC at 2am.

Saw my favorite band, The Church, perform at The Irv last night. After 26 years, they're still bangin drums and shreddin geetars. Great show. Pulled some obscure stuff out of the archives for us. Stayed for 2 encores.

One thing I noticed was they looked, well, old. Earth's gravity is starting to pull these guys toward the soil. You can see it in their faces. Grey streaks through their thinning hair.

Come to think of it, everyone at the show looked old. The guy sitting next to me was sporting a dunlap. (A dunlap is when your belly dun-lap over your belt). And I'm no spring chicky with my silver sidewalls.

I should've anticipated the age issue when I bought tickets. Irving Plaza is a standing venue: A giant ballroom with a stage. But, for this particular show, they brought out the folding chairs for us. Our arthritic knees and brittle spines couldn't take a couple hours of standing.

Or maybe they decided on chairs because a post-concert bingo game might break out.

I also heard through the old vine that this was an acoustic show. They were putting down those loud electric guitars and sticking with the acoustic variety. Us geezers can't take too much noise and racket. Especially those of us with tinnitus. Thankfully, the volume knob hardly exceeded a 6.

A variety of Church t-shirts and cds littered the merch table. I imagine, soon, we'll see them hawking kits of old man rock essentials: Ear plugs, aspirin, and branded hankeys.

Rock on, you wrinkled old bastads!

GM