Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll. Sponsored by Depends.
(Mr. and Mrs. Cuss attended the Richard Thompson Band concert last night.)
“Make sure you park as close as possible. My gout’s been acting up.”
“I just hope it’s not too loud. My doctor thinks I might need a hearing aid in a few years, and I don’t want to speed up the process.”
“What are these old people doing here? Did the old-folks home drop everyone here thinking there was a Bingo game?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look! Everyone has gray hair, if they have any hair at all. Everyone is wearing glasses. Everyone is wearing relaxed-fit jeans and polo shirts. A lot of them look well-fed too, if you know what I mean. What happened to all the thin, long-haired hippies that went to all of the concerts?”
“They’re all insurance salesmen with grandchildren now. Besides, dear, you have gray hair and thick glasses yourself, and you could stand to lose, ahem, a ‘few’ pounds.”
"Rock and roll shouldn't be for old people."
"Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis still perform and they're pushing 80."
“I bet they schedule the shows early, so the band can come straight from the Early Bird Special. See! Even the roadie is going bald! What’s that smell?”
“I don’t smell anything.”
“That’s what I mean. Where’s the marijuana?”
“Dear, don’t you remember Robert Klein’s joke about drug dealing at concerts at our age? ‘Psst, hey man, got any Lipitor?’”
“Well, I was just thinking about the Jefferson Airplane concert I saw when I was in college. At the end, I realized I’d been sitting on a fat joint all night. Man, did we get wrecked going back to the dorm!”
“Do you want me to get you a beer?”
“Just one. I’m driving. Besides, too much beer gives me gas.”
(The band enters the stage.)
“You see! All of them combined have less hair than me!”
“Yes, dear, that’s something to be proud of.”
(The first set featured Thompson’s new album, Dream Attic, played in its entirety. Highlights included two catchy tunes, “Bad Again” and “Big Sun Falling in the River” as well as a song about a serial killer, “Sydney Wells,” which reminded me of the Hitchcock movie Frenzy, and for which he played an epic guitar solo that triggered an ovation that lasted a couple of minutes. The first number was “The Money Shuffle,” a condemnation of Wall Street bigwigs.)
“Remember when we sang about peace and love? Now we’re singing about our 401(k)s losing their value.”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“But it’s only the second song!”
“Yeah, but I had a sip of water five minutes ago.”
(The second set featured Thompson’s hits – or hits in an alternate universe, at least. Highlights included a moving “Al Bowlly’s In Heaven,” a riveting “Wall of Death,” and an extended “Tear-Stained Letter,” with all the band numbers ripping off spirited solos.)
"Does he have any songs that aren't about death or heartbreak?"
"Yeah, he covered Britney Spears once. Speaking of death, Keith Richards' memoir is coming out this week."
"His memoir? Who would think he could even remember anything."
“Geez, even the groupies have gray hair!”
“They’re not groupies, dear. That’s the concert hall staff.”
“I have to go to the bathroom again.”
(The encore concluded with “I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight,” the title song of one of his best albums with his ex-wife Linda.)
“Why aren’t you standing and applauding like everyone else?”
“I would but my sciatica is acting up. I hope this is the last song. I’ve got to get up early in the morning.”
“It’s only 10:00, dear.”
“I know, but if I don’t get a full eight hours, I’ll be useless tomorrow.”
“And how is that different from any other day?”
“Make sure I pee again before we leave. I don’t think I can last until I get home.”
(We returned to our car, about three hours after arriving for the show.)
“Remember when we used to get so excited after a concert that we’d go home and have sex? Let’s do that tonight.”
“No, dear, I'm all out of Viagra. Besides, we just had sex two weeks ago and I still have aches and pains. Remind me to take an Aleve when we get home.”