Christmas again: Reflections and reminiscences. As I turn 65, it dawns on me that I possess a terminal illness for which there is no cure: It’s called “aging.” Mine is a common lament; very common.
My son has come home from France this Christmas to visit his mother and me. He doesn’t get back here very often, so I try to plan our time together to maximum effect. As I was searching for music events we could enjoy, I saw that the Milwaukee band Southbound was booked to perform their annual Allman Brothers tribute — something they excel at. I was frustrated by the timing, coming two days before our son was to fly home. This would have been a perfect outing, but it was not to be.
Last summer, my wife and I held a weekend-long Woodstock 50 party. It was lavish, with elaborate attention to detail. I wish you could have been there. I also wish our son could have attended, but Paris is a long trip for a party — even one celebrating a Woodstock anniversary.
Lately, I have been taking deep dives into the box set from Bob Dylan’s religious era, Trouble No More. As I hear the unbridled passion of the live recordings, it makes me again wish that I had been able to attend one of Dylan’s concerts of this short-lived era.
These three events represent a myriad of experiences that, until recently, caused me great anxiety — things missed, lost, and underappreciated. But I don’t think in these terms any longer. The terminal illness that I mentioned will eventually solve all frustrations concerning unattended shows and overlooked opportunities.
A missed Allman Brothers tribute band? We’ll be able to go see the Allmans in concert at their peak — able to attend shows again (and again) as easily as I now play a compact disc. Woodstock party? We can go to Woodstock. But maybe give Altamont a miss.
Instead of hearing the recordings, I will be able to attend as many of Bob Dylan’s sacred concerts as I want. And speaking of Bob, two of his lyrics now leap to mind: The first is his song title, proclaiming “Death is Not the End.” The second crystalizes an individual’s spiritual situation: “You either got faith or you got unbelief / And there ain’t no neutral ground.”
Merry Christmas, and I’ll look for you by the stage at Woodstock – just before Hendrix plays.
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