A good friend took me to see Billy Joel's Last Play at Shea Stadium. A Generation Xer, I knew his work well; his stuff from the 70's is epic; after that, for me, things got sappy although there were a few exceptional exceptions. Billy seemed to agree with my assessment and played, for 50,000 nostalgic fans, almost only the good stuff.
The night was hot and heavy with sentimentality for not only was this guy who wrote a good part of the soundtrack of most of our lives singing his heart out on a Friday night but he was doing it at the home of the Mets - another huge contributor to this soundtrack. This double-treat got even sweeter as one legend after another dropped by for a song. The two highlights of these guest appearances were seeing The Who's Roger Daultry singing "My Generation" and Paul McCartney singing "Let It Be".
It was one of those moments when you knew you were witnessing history - music history, sports history - cultural history. The Beatles began their US invasion here at this stadium a quarter century before. To see and hear their last living leader killing us softly, in fine voice, in the very same place - and on the eve of its destruction - was almost too much to bear.
Even Billy seemed to lose himself in the moment, forgetting that this was his concert, as he watched Paul perform with the same unbridled glee that left the rest of the crowd spell-bound.
What a great thrill. What a fine tribute to a place that has given so much to so many and by a local musician who has given so much to so many too.
Arriving home, I made a promise to get out of the house enjoy these needlessly neglected luxuries more often. After all, isn't that part of the reason one lives in a big city?
