One of the few albums left from my extensive record collection.

Mark was at the dentist’s office the other day, and he and the hygienist had a conversation about music. Mark told her that he and I were going to see Peter Frampton.
How is that possible? I ranted and raved for several minutes while Mark patiently waited for me to take a breath.
“She said to tell you that she was born in 1984.”
As if that excused her!
I was born in 1957. I know who Beethoven, Cole Porter, Robert Johnson and Bill Haley are, so what’s your point?
It saddens me to see there are so many people -- of all ages -- who are culturally illiterate. If the music or show isn’t streaming live on their iPhones or laptops, it’s as if it doesn’t exist. Either that, or they’re stuck in a time warp on TV Land, where desperate housewives are lightyears away and Furley and Jack are hanging out at the Regal Beagle.
Take your blinders off, people!
Back in 1976, before the dental hygienist’s parents probably even knew each other, Frampton reached a nearly godlike status in the music world. “Frampton Comes Alive” was, at that point, the biggest-selling live album ever.
But more importantly, in the medics’ dorms at Clark Air Base in the Philippines, it was the most-played album PERIOD.
My 19-year-old self in 1976 in the Philippines ... out on the balcony with Shine and
Gary. Undoubtedly, we had heard "Frampton Comes Alive" at some point that day.

It’s impossible to reflect on my 15 months in the Philippines without hearing Frampton’s music in the background. It was part of the soundtrack of my life. 
The elaborate stereo systems in the dorms could do justice to the album. The doors would be flung open and with the volume knobs all the way to the right, it was time for a party on the balcony. At least, until, someone called the cops.
In spite of my best efforts, I was never at the right place or right time to see Frampton live ... until now. When I heard about Frampton celebrating the 35th anniversary of his album by playing it live, I was ecstatic. Finally! I made sure I got tickets to his performance at the Majestic Theater Oct. 19.
Orchestra RC, Row L, Seats 118 and 120.
My 19-year-old self will be there, along with memories of nights out on the balcony, a long-haired Frampton and a bitchin’ stereo system. My 54-year-old self will smile, and know it was worth the wait.


Tamster said…
Saw him "live" in '77 at the Kingdome in Seattle. I can still see the look on my Mom's face each time she walked into my bedroom and had to see the life-sized poster of him above my bed -- you know the one: shirtless, arms crossed over his chest. He was my teenage dream. And the boy could play! Thanks for the memories, Gringa.
Abbey Forney said…
So what I want to know is how did your husband manage to have a normal conversation with the dental hygienist?! All I can ever do with mine is grunt and hope she understands. :) Anyway, it was a pleasure meeting you at the PRSA workshop yesterday. I'm enjoying checking out your blog.

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