They’ve “aged” well, I suppose. Who am I to ridicule anyone for getting old, or worse yet, looking old. It happens to the best of us, if we’re lucky. The option to getting old isn’t so wonderful either.
Dayum! Remember The Go-Go’s?
If you don’t, their 40th anniversary tour should serve to remind you if you’re into the senior set type of thing.
Tragically, this is not a unique route; aging musicians always find the shameless need to reassemble their withered bodies on inconsequential stages in order to faintly relive their glory days all the time. But it’s never, never the same. It cannot be. This makes me uneasy. I dread it when musicians from my younger days trollop around in front of crowds when they should be chilling somewhere nice and warm with their grandkids. It’s wrong, man. These musicians need to hang ’em up and quit making a mockery of their vibrant days. As much as I’d enjoy it, you’re not likely to see me running around acting like I’m 23 now. You won’t find me in a large Hollywood nightclub blasting 80’s house music while I flail around on the dance floor drunkenly pretending to know how to dance. Those days are long behind me, and rockers in their 50’s and 60’s need to accept this too. Heavy metal band reunions are the absolute worst, cringe-inducing spectacle. Something about the heavy metal motifs from 30 and 40 years ago simply do not age well.
I do not like the inability of some people to grow old graciously. Fighting the drumbeat of time, they vainly grasp the vacuous props of youth and look stupid for it.
Each and every one of us must find succor in memories of our pasts and live contentedly in the present, I say.