Rock & Roll!

 

Lately, I’ve been noticing a lot of romances about rock and roll stars. Maybe it’s because I live near Cleveland, home of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame that I’m noticing this trend. I even wrote a time-travel about a woman who was married to a rock star, so I’ve jumped on the band wagon, too. Or in this case, the tour bus.

All of which got me to thinking of the very first concerts I ever went to. I have to admit, I cut my teeth on quality groups. My very first concert was in 1965, and it was The Rolling Stones. It took place in a relatively small auditorium in Cleveland, and the Stones were so unknown in the states that you could walk right up to the stage and take pictures. Mick even mugged for my camera.

The following year, my sister and I stayed home while our parents went on vacation. We were supposed to look for summer jobs. But instead, we got in the car they left us, and drove to Ann Arbor, MI to a small club where we saw The Who, complete with smashing guitars, flying drumsticks and pyrotechnics. We picked up some hitchhikers in Cleveland who helped us with gas money, but we barely had enough money or gas to limp home. But what a great time!

So, I guess I’ve answered my own question. The reason rock stars make such good romance heroes and heroines is because of the rich stories that evolve from their very existence. If you can provide a memory that spans decades, that’s truly something.

So, tell me. What was your first concert experience?