Guess who is performing in my hometown tonight?
Read the title of my post.
Yep. Those of you old enough know–
It’s The Eagles.
I don’t have tickets because I’ve been feeling so crappy the last bunch of months that I haven’t felt like doing anything. Plus, my husband isn’t such a big fan. I don’t think he cares too much about the fact that this is the last time we’d be able to see them live.
Of course it’s not the original line up, with Glenn being gone and all.
But you know why the Eagles mean something to me?
I LOVE the song Hotel California.
Ever since I was little when it first came out, I’ve loved it.
I like the music, I like the story, I like the idea of pink champagne on ice.
I also like that the song scared the bejesus out of the Christian counselors who used to hang with my crew when I was a teenager at the local pizza shop after Sunday night worship service we attended to see if there were any cute guys there. We were such little shits–playing songs on the jukebox we knew would stir the fear of Satan’s wrath in those people’s pizza-guzzling oh-so-vulnerable souls.
Hotel California was a staple for that kind of fun. Second only to Stairway to Heaven, of course.
But this is my favorite Hotel California memory.
I was 9 when my older sister was a senior in high school. I distinctly remember her taking me with her to Pizza Hut one night when all of her cool high school friends were there in that dark yummy pizza joint.
She and I played songs on the jukebox that night. (I’m just now fully realizing how this song has so many pizza place jukebox memories for me).
I felt so cool being there with the big kids, and getting to choose a tune all on my own.
Pam played “Lido Shuffle” by Boz Skaggs, which to this very day reminds me of her.
I played–you guessed it–“Hotel California”.
Whenever I hear that song I’m transported back in time to that cavernous pizza facility full of long-haired teenagers wearing painters pants and Earth shoes.
God knows what I had on that night. I was just hitting my incredibly unattractive awkward stage. I know I had a shag hairdo and probably wore a gauzy embroidered smocked shirt and jeans.
Anyway. That was a cool time. I appreciated my sister taking me along with her. I can only guess she probably didn’t really want to, but she did anyway.
The Eagles are in town tonight and truth be told, if we could swing it, I’d go.
Tickets are so expensive. Plus our daughter and her girlfriend are supposed to come for dinner and to work on daughter’s tax return tonight.
These are things I would be willing to give up if reasonably-priced tickets somehow made their ways into my hot little hands.
I keep watching the Ticketmaster site. People are trying to “resale” tickets for astronomical amounts there.
I can’t help wondering if the closer we get to showtime, maybe they might lower their sights?
I’ll keep checking.
If by some miracle I get there tonight, I actually have a gauzy white shirt somewhat similar to the one i had when i was 9. Im pretty sure I have a pair of jeans to pair with it.
But there ain’t no way in hell I’d resurrect the shag hairdo. That thing was a hot mess. The Eagles would be looking at me like–look at the chick in the audience whose hair thinks it’s 1976.
To finish, won’t you please take a moment to enjoy my all-time favorite version of what is probably like my #7 or 8th all-time favorite song.