About 15 minutes into my wait to fork over property taxes at City Hall on Friday, two women behind me are ranting about the increased digits soon to divorce their bank account. Hasta la vista, savings!
Plan A, they reason, is solely to blame for this agonizing atrocity. It is, they insist, the mother of all indecent taxes, the one civic expenditure that broke the proverbial camel’s back.
Curious, I asked the louder one if she had visited the new facilities. She quickly shot back: “Why would I? Didn’t want them and we certainly can’t afford them.”
Sort of mentioned I was spending the night at a concert, inside the new arena, where Canadian Music Hall of Fame icons Randy Bachman and Burton Cummings were the main act.
“Those grandpas?,” she mocked. “What else do you do for excitement on Fridays, stay home and read?”
Ecstatic there was no chance I’d be sitting next to this mother of all downers later in the evening, I returned to minding my own business and waiting to have my pockets picked by the busy city clerks.
What I should tell the two women, however, is they missed one spectacular show.
While Bachman, 65, and Cummings, 61, had the crowd fully engaged at “Hello,” their splendid set had 60-something-year-old women pumping their fists in the air to Let It Ride or swooning to the timeless ballad These Eyes. Priceless stuff.
The entire evening was like a magical jukebox. Plunk in a quarter and for the next two hours you heard the mega-hits from BTO, The Guess Who, Bachman’s and Cummings’ solo careers, the tunes you likely danced to, drove to, barbecued to, partied to, or made the van rock to (wink, wink!).
The fact these Canadian legends shared top spot in the charts with the Beatles in their heyday, before iTunes, 24/7 music channels or the Internet, really says something about their mass appeal.
With apologies to the one-hit wonders and Idol wannabes, these two Western
Canadian seniors represent the real deal, the consummate showmen who still understand the concept of giving people their money’s worth and leave them craving for more.
They didn’t drop F-bombs, they didn’t use pyrotechnics, gimmicks or nearly naked dancers (hello Britney!). They just played. And the standing ovations from song No. 3 onward Friday proves the blue-collar formula still works.
Cummings can still hit all the notes and he can still work a room with his charm. He doesn’t need to lip synch to recorded tracks.
Bachman can still play a mean guitar, albeit his gut-crunching sound of the BTO days has mellowed, perhaps out of respect for his many fans now wearing hearing aids, or plugs!
Still, when he strikes the first few chords of American Woman, Takin’ Care of Business or Rollin’ Down the Highway, the smiles appear on faces as if
people’s memories are being refreshed of where and when they first heard the tunes.
Bachman and Cummings gave props to Winnipeg, the Prairies, our soldiers, our flag, the West and the Abbotsford crowd for still spending money to see them.
It was great (and rare) to attend a concert and not go home smelling like Tim Felger’s favourite plant. Or deal with hearing loss for days after.
And it was really inspiring to see two “grandpas” proudly sing You Ain’t See Nothin’ Yet like they were just starting out.
And it was fun hearing the crowd sing back the encore lyrics to the super seniors who made this particular Friday night extra special, taxes be damned.
Taken from http://myextratwobits.blogspot.com/
