America, Again

It has become an annual event and thank God for that.

Went to the Hampton Beach Casino on Thursday night past to see America with Sir Eric of Swenson.

The night was explosive.

First off it was, as always, mind blowing to be around this man. He is genuine with me, and apparently he is one of the, if not the only, friend that I can be genuine with. No bullshit, no games, no acting, no self consciousness.

I am surprised when we get together that the earth does not explode. It is such a fierce concentration of honesty that I am amazed the world can survive it.

We did it up right. After talking, confessing and laughing our way through the long ride out, we parked and headed for the beach.

Across the street from the casino, right on the beach, is a stage, a shell, where a band was performing. Pretty good crowd hanging around just digging the scene.

It was country music and kind of hokey; people were line dancing too, which definitely ain't my thing (although I spent a piece of my life doing it).

None of that mattered. It was a perfect summer night and humans were digging it the way it was meant to be dug.

One couple got to me. It was a woman who looked to be in her thirties or forties dancing with a much older woman. Perhaps her grandmother. They really were standing in place, holding hands and swaying their arms right in front of the stage.

It seemed to me the older woman was having the time of her life.

How very cool.

As we approached the stage I glanced out on to the beach and glimpsed a quintessential summer scene. It was about 7:30 and a group of teens were getting ready to leave. Gathering up the blankets and such.

One girl in a bikini stood up and wriggled her way into a pair of cut off denim shorts.

It was not an erotic thing. It was a summer scene filled with youth and time slowed down and lifetimes of promise and a setting sun and heat and the ocean and the simple joy of being alive with minimal obligations.

We crossed the street and the night really began.

Eric always warns the people around us that he might go crazy during the concert and he hopes he doesn't offend anyone.

This doesn't disturb anyone because he is so genuine. What we end up with is a night of temporary friends surrounding us.

Forget the opening act. Not worth talking about. America hit the stage and the night became electric.

Our seats were in the third row. THIRD ROW. We could practically touch the stage.

America recently replaced their guitar player, Michael Woods (Woodz) who had spent 35 years with the band.  I was concerned about this. This guy is a rock warrior whose vibe I dig supremely. The new guy is quite young. They also had a new drummer. Thursday was his second night with the band.

My worries were misplaced. The new lineup appears to have fired up the band. The guitar player sizzled, the drummer was superb and the vibe in the band was way over the top.

America brings a presence to the stage that cannot be ignored. They have been doing this for 44 years. Their fans are passionate and know every word to every song.

And they have a lot of hits.

At one point Gerry Beckley drifted over to his organ to play one of his signature love songs. The organ was right in front of us.

As I watched him I was blown away by the emotion in his eyes, the expression in his face. He sat there a few times during the concert, singing songs he has sung 237,000 times before, and still, he was consumed with emotion and passion. The way he closed his eyes, the way his body swayed, his whole being was wrapped up in these songs.

What a gift. For him and to us.

Highlight: Eric stood up during one song and pointed to Dewey Bunnell. Eric is a tall gentleman and hard to miss. Especially from three rows back.

Dewey looked his way and nodded to him. Absolute truth. Eric will undoubtedly tell this story to people who will not believe him.

I am a witness. I was there. Dewey Bunnell looked directly at Eric and nodded.

Fanfuckingtastic.

"Sister Golden Hair" was the last song of the set before the encore. When America launches into that song the place explodes.

"Well I tried to make it Sunday, but I got so damn depressed, that I set my sights on Monday and I got myself undressed." You know the song and so did every member of that audience, who sang it lustily.

Encore time. They came out and did a Neil Young song and then.........................

"Horse With No Name."

I have said it before and I will repeat this every time I see this magnificent band live. You hear the song a million times on the radio but you have not experienced the song until you sing it along with America, live.

Mind blowing.

And for me and Eric, the line "'cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain" has become cathartic. We sing it a maximum volume and our souls are cleansed.

We left the Hampton Beach Casino drained.

Supremely happy.

Cool note: At one point during the concert Eric got up to grab a beer. After a few minutes the woman next to me asked: "Do you think we'll see him up on stage?" A temporary friend sharing an enjoyable moment. The Eric effect.

We talked, confessed and laughed our way home listening and singing to an America CD and the night was over.

The next day at work I found myself supremely bored. When you experience a perfect soul high, a musical epiphany and a friendship so pure and intense, normalcy feels like death.

But I got the memories. I can still summon up the feelings. I can look forward to the next concert.

Eric has brought Gerry Beckley and Dewey Bunnell into my life and I am grateful.

That night was another jewel in the crown that is becoming The Amazing Summer of 2014.

That's it. I'm done.

I got nothing left to say.