That's Life: True Confessions

Issue of June 26, 2009 / 5769

Dear That’s Life,

I have a confession to make.

After printing a top 10 list of songs one should be embarrassed to

have on a play list, I have done something that goes way beyond buying

just one embarrassing song. On the “I Can’t Believe You Did That” list

of embarrassing things to do, going where I did qualifies as owning

every song by Tom Jones, Cher, WHAM and Air Supply and listening to

them while wearing a “Frankie Goes to Hollywood” T-shirt. And while I

did not believe I could run into anyone, there they were: a group of

women from the neighborhood, excited to be there while I was praying

for obscurity. I had been outed. Once you see people you know, you

have no choice but to come clean. And so, in a moment of true honesty,

I need to admit that yes: I went to the Chicago/Earth, Wind and Fire

concert at Madison Square Garden last week and yes: I had a blast.

No matter what the problem is, no one can help you until you admit

you have a problem. But the truth is, there were 50,000 or so of us

who had a ‘problem’ that night, dancing to “Boogie Wonderland” like

our lives depended on it, singing “Saturday in the Park” like we were

actually partying on the great lawn itself, or unabashedly belting out

“You’re the Inspiration” at the top of our lungs. For some reason or

another, life seemed to stop that night and no matter what was going

on in the economy or in Iran or in any two-state solution, thousands

of people left their worries at the door and came to have a good time

— and that they did.

Truthfully, I am a classic rock kind of gal.  Other concerts I’ve

attended include Rush, Green Day, The Stones, Billy Joel, Eagles (too

many times to admit), Styx, and Dave Matthews. The night in question

was an aberration from my norm. But it felt very right, although I was

worried that someone would take away my daughter’s REM concert shirt

as a punishment for my wrongdoing. Being part of a 70s karaoke night —

and for all intents and purposes that’s what it was — was much more

fun than I anticipated it would be and I found myself laughing out

loud, unprepared for all of the fun I’d be having or that I’d allowed

myself to have.

So I confess — I was there — and I don’t regret it. Good music is

good music, even if the men on stage in muscle shirts are old enough

to be my dad. And after all, one thing I can say for sure about the

70s is that it’s a hard habit to break.

MLW