Jackson Down

So Wifey and I and friends Rob and Monica had a fine dinner at Titanic, near the UM campus, and then headed over to the Gusman Theatre to see Jackson Browne.

Jackson is a friend of UM alum Bruce Hornsby, who hosts a music festival each Fall, and he did the show as a benefit to Hornsby's endowed music writing program. At the threatre, folks held signs begging for tickets -- the 600 person venue was small for even a fading star like Browne, and there was a nice buzz outside.

I ran into at least 20 folks I knew, all of whom are now empty nesters. One group included D1's former roommate's parents, who thanked me for finding out about the show by my FaceBook (tm) post. Amy and Marty were standing with 2 other couples. Wifey was in the bathroom, and they asked after her.

"Oh, you didn't hear about me and Wifey?" I asked, serious faced. Just then Wifey came over. The middle aged women scowled at me -- I guess that jokes about mid life crisis husbands bolting aren't too funny to them. Oh well...

We took our seats, which were in the front row, only by chance. Several of our acquaintances passed by, on their way to higher rows, and I told them that being a Cane alum was what did it...I think they believed me.

Anyway, on came Jackson...I've read that the reason kids don't like spicy foods is that their taste buds are too sensitive and active. Only as we age, and lose this, do we enjoy spiciness.

It occurred to me that the same is true of musical tastes, at least for me. I was BORED. Jackson is a great lyricist, but has, to me a whiny voice, and plays everything down tempo...YAWN.

I guess I need an entertainer, these days, like Springsteen, or Bono, or even rappers who dance around and show passion for what they do.

Jackson NEVER smiled --he just looked VERY serious, as he commented on the songs, and his guitars, and the fact that he wasn't as good of a musician as Bruce Hornsby. He was right about that. The one not so boring part of the show, for me, was when Hornsby played his mandolin, and sang along...

Wifey has exactly the opposite opinion. She was, in her own words, "mesmerized." Of course she was! She, like every other suburban, middle class, thoughtful girl, spent countless hours in her room in the 70s, listening to Jackson Browne songs, and even weeping over his lyrics, which spoke so honestly about losing love, and how lovers change, and missing out on love leaves one "late for the sky..."

Rob's girlfriend Monica felt the same. She joined Wifey in standing ovations for several of the songs, especially when he played "The Pretender."

For me, as I left the theatre, felt like Butthead, who is returning to MTV apparently, with his sidekick Beavis. "Chick music!" is all I could think of...

But, it was worth it, for how much Wifey enjoyed the evening. And, as the Cane I am, I was happy to see the Music School raise probably $300k by Jackson Browne's charitable act.

But, alas, yet another form of music I enjoyed is now past me. I knew I was getting old about 10 years ago, when I came to the realization that over produced groups I really enjoyed, like Yes and Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, was a bunch of crap...

Is this the time for me to stick to singers and standards, and jazz, and maybe just classic, rock a billy?

On my way home from Delray the other day, I was listening to Judy Garland sing "You'll Never Walk Alone," and the power and sadness in her voice brought me some tears...

Sorry, Mr. Jackson Down, as we used to call him even in the 70s, to make fun of my friend Debbie's devotion to him -- you don't blow my skirt up.