Yes, I know what occurred (is still occurring as of) yesterday. I’m focusing on something else because I seriously can’t think about that anymore. Besides, today is a holiday, a holy day in the catechism of me. A spectacularly awesome event occurred 35 years ago today. In a previous century! And yet it seems like… 35 years ago actually.
Picture it: November 4, 1985
Picture me: similar yet shorter, thinner, no reading glasses required, mouth agape (sometimes silent, sometimes screaming with a gaggle of other pre-teen girls), and giddy (this, not a great stretch as I still become so, only now it’s for new shopping carts at Target or a vacuum that glides easily and actually picks up lint and hair without clogging)
Picture the place: theater in the round, with a stage that spins slowly providing a 365-degree view of the night’s entertainment and the thousands of people in attendance
Picture it: here’s a picture, in case you were struggling
This! Is my very first concert. With my very favorite band (at the time), The Hooters, from Philadelphia (like me!). The first of many concerts, including theirs in double digits.
As I detailed in an essay in The Philadelphia Inquirer for their 30th anniversary, I won the tickets to my first concert in a radio station contest. I met them shortly thereafter at a record store and said next to nothing — starstruck, you know. A couple of years later, I (staked out) met them at a pizza place we all frequented but never at the same time (until I “accidentally” ran into them — thanks, waitress, for the info on when they visit!), and I said a little more. A couple years later, I met them a third time at a sound check for the July 4th concert on the Parkway, which my father found out about by returning lawn equipment he rented to the warehouse which was next to the warehouse the band practiced in (WHAT?! I know!) — that time, I found enough words to make a couple sentences. After my essay scored me an invite to the 30 anniversary concert party, I met them again and this time — full on paragraphs. Actual conversation! With all of them! Eric said the sweetest thing — that his mother read my essay and it made her cry “in a good way.” I was touched. See?
The 40th anniversary of the band will pass with no annual November concert. Hopefully, we can gather together again next year for the 40th anniversary part deux, during what they’re calling their “20 + 20 + 1 40th Anniversary Tour.” I shall have my own dance party this year in their honor and to remember the 35th anniversary of the momentous occasion in my own musical history that they are the stars of. Note to self: order AquaNet to do your hair properly, but whatever you do, for the love of all things holy, do NOT cut your bangs (again).
From Thanksgiving, 1987 (I was at this concert, too)