There are a lot of shows I have no memory of but this one is not one of those. My wife, her sister, my buddy Eric and I drove to Shea Stadium, home of the Mets, to attend the Eric Clapton and Elton John concert on a Friday night in August, 1992. Since I have an aversion to paying for parking, and knowing the neighborhood a little bit, I parked on a side street in Elmhurst where a young man offered to keep an eye on my car for $20. As I was in a legal spot, I found this odd until the light bulb came on and I realized he was asking for $20 street insurance. As I was not comfortable with this generous offer, we moved the car to another legal parking space snd made our way in. Our seats were on the field near the front of the second part of the orchestra on the left side of the stage. Once we entered the field, Eric and I soon realized that they were not selling beer on the floor and that you could not exit and return. This was long before cell phones were common place, so we went to a security guard and told him we had to leave to make an emergency phone call. The guard let us leave and we headed straight to Casey’s Bar within the stadium and furiously pounded down Heinekens. I think we went back in again and managed to return to Casey’s at least one more time. Once we returned to the field to stay, my sister in law saw us coming and said “oh my god”. When Elton John performed “Funeral for a Friend”, Eric was in the aisle in front of our section playing air guitar and doing his best Chuck Berry duck walk during “Love Lies Bleeding”. This is where the memories begin to get fuzzy. As I am recalling now, I think a security tried to curtail Eric’s performance in the aisle and somehow he was asked to leave. As I further recall, I think in a move of solidarity, I left with him and we ended up in the parking lot together. Oh yeah, my wife and sister in law were still inside the concert while all this is going on, and as I previously stated, there were was no cell phone technology at the time to save us. I’m not sure why, but Eric snd I were rolling around the parking lot half ass fighting when two of NYPD’s Finest broke us up and were pleased to realize that we knew each other. There was literally no way to contact my wife and sister in law so we left and I headed to my parents apartment in Oakland Gardens, Queens to sleep on the couch; the trip included a cab ride that got derailed and quite a bit of walking. Needless to say, no one was happy with the events of the evening, including me for missing most of the show, nor my wife, for the obvious reasons.
Can’t Find My Way Home.
It just dawned on me that this happened almost thirty years ago; now I am 62, a grandfather, and eligible for social security.
I’m Still Standing
Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me
Rock on!
GQ