This is the most docile event I have attended in the past year. There are no horns blaring in the parking lot. There is no rush to be nearest to the stage. No one has spilled a drink on my feet. The Verizon Theatre crowd at the first and third initials of CSNY is happily chatting mid-beer gulp, and waiting for their adolescent guitar heroes, Graham Nash and David Crosby, to walk the temporarily carpeted stage.
Upon text to my father to inform him of my whereabouts (as he would appreciate my being at a concert he would have attended at my age; his long wavy hair and hippie vest come to mind) his response is a simple, “Old guys rule!”
“There he is!” an excited audience member yells out as Crosby emerges from the wings, followed by a barefoot Nash. The crowd rose to their feet before either one of them played a note. The two living legends, 50 feet in front of me, should be on display in some hall of fame glass case, next to Olympians, and those who EGOT. (more…)