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steffialicia
My husband and I tried but literally could not get into the park. It was so unbelievably crowded. I've enjoyed videos of it time and time again until this day. A great show.
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tatters
It was originally supposed to have been a Paul Simon solo concert. Then he decided he'd like to have Artie join him for a few songs. Rehearsals began, and gradually, they kept adding more and more S&G songs, to the point where fully half of the concert was going to be a Simon and Garfunkel reunion. That would have made Paul, in effect, the opening act for Simon and Garfunkel. He didn't want that, so he just said @#$%& it, let's just do the whole show as a Simon and Garfunkel concert.
This was something that had been in the works all that summer, but was kept a closely guarded secret from the public. It wasn't until Friday, September 11th, just 8 days before that concert, that radio stations began reporting that this unlikeliest of reunions would actually be taking place. A single newspaper advertisement appeared in the Sunday New York Times on September 13th. It was all just so unexpected and out of the blue, and I think that's what made it so exciting to be there.
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tatters
It's impossible for me to listen to the double live album without remembering that I spent all of Side Two looking for a place to take a leak, and all of Side Three returning from the place where I took a leak. For fully half of the concert, I was separated from my friend and nowhere even near to the Great Lawn.
There were no video screens, so there was really nothing to see, nothing to look at. All you could do was listen. The volume of the music fluctuated wildly, the result of the wind literally blowing the sound around from one side of the park to the other and back again. Steve Gadd's booming drums on "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" sounded exactly like someone tapping with their fingers on the dashboard of a car.
It was still a very, very fun night out.
Ten years later, when Paul played an equally massive solo concert in Central Park, I called up the friend I had gone to the 1981 concert with and suggested we have our own little reunion and attend the show together. We were barely still keeping in touch at that point, and hadn't gone to a show together since we'd seen Bob Dylan and Tom Petty (with a surprise appearance by one Ronnie Wood) at Madison Square Garden in 1986. Unfortunately, he couldn't make it into the city that night.
In 1991 I had an office near Columbus Circle and was living on the upper east side. It would have the easiest thing in the world to go to that show, but I just didn't feel like going alone. It was kinda sad. I literally had to walk around the concert to get home from work that night. I watched it on television in my apartment, live on HBO, just a few blocks from where the concert was taking place without me.
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tatters
It's impossible for me to listen to the double live album without remembering that I spent all of Side Two looking for a place to take a leak, and all of Side Three returning from the place where I took a leak. For fully half of the concert, I was separated from my friend and nowhere even near to the Great Lawn.
There were no video screens, so there was really nothing to see, nothing to look at. All you could do was listen. The volume of the music fluctuated wildly, the result of the wind literally blowing the sound around from one side of the park to the other and back again. Steve Gadd's booming drums on "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" sounded exactly like someone tapping with their fingers on the dashboard of a car.
It was still a very, very fun night out.
Ten years later, when Paul played an equally massive solo concert in Central Park, I called up the friend I had gone to the 1981 concert with and suggested we have our own little reunion and attend the show together. We were barely still keeping in touch at that point, and hadn't gone to a show together since we'd seen Bob Dylan and Tom Petty (with a surprise appearance by one Ronnie Wood) at Madison Square Garden in 1986. Unfortunately, he couldn't make it into the city that night.
In 1991 I had an office near Columbus Circle and was living on the upper east side. It would have the easiest thing in the world to go to that show, but I just didn't feel like going alone. It was kinda sad. I literally had to walk around the concert to get home from work that night. I watched it on television in my apartment, live on HBO, just a few blocks from where the concert was taking place without me.
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steffialiciaQuote
tatters
It's impossible for me to listen to the double live album without remembering that I spent all of Side Two looking for a place to take a leak, and all of Side Three returning from the place where I took a leak. For fully half of the concert, I was separated from my friend and nowhere even near to the Great Lawn.
There were no video screens, so there was really nothing to see, nothing to look at. All you could do was listen. The volume of the music fluctuated wildly, the result of the wind literally blowing the sound around from one side of the park to the other and back again. Steve Gadd's booming drums on "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" sounded exactly like someone tapping with their fingers on the dashboard of a car.
It was still a very, very fun night out.
Ten years later, when Paul played an equally massive solo concert in Central Park, I called up the friend I had gone to the 1981 concert with and suggested we have our own little reunion and attend the show together. We were barely still keeping in touch at that point, and hadn't gone to a show together since we'd seen Bob Dylan and Tom Petty (with a surprise appearance by one Ronnie Wood) at Madison Square Garden in 1986. Unfortunately, he couldn't make it into the city that night.
In 1991 I had an office near Columbus Circle and was living on the upper east side. It would have the easiest thing in the world to go to that show, but I just didn't feel like going alone. It was kinda sad. I literally had to walk around the concert to get home from work that night. I watched it on television in my apartment, live on HBO, just a few blocks from where the concert was taking place without me.
I've gone to many, many things on my own over the years. I'd rather go alone, if need be, than not go at all. I've attended Stones shows both on my own and with friends, but it has to be the "right" friends. If people aren't really into it, I'd rather be on my own.
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steffialiciaQuote
tatters
It's impossible for me to listen to the double live album without remembering that I spent all of Side Two looking for a place to take a leak, and all of Side Three returning from the place where I took a leak. For fully half of the concert, I was separated from my friend and nowhere even near to the Great Lawn.
There were no video screens, so there was really nothing to see, nothing to look at. All you could do was listen. The volume of the music fluctuated wildly, the result of the wind literally blowing the sound around from one side of the park to the other and back again. Steve Gadd's booming drums on "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" sounded exactly like someone tapping with their fingers on the dashboard of a car.
It was still a very, very fun night out.
Ten years later, when Paul played an equally massive solo concert in Central Park, I called up the friend I had gone to the 1981 concert with and suggested we have our own little reunion and attend the show together. We were barely still keeping in touch at that point, and hadn't gone to a show together since we'd seen Bob Dylan and Tom Petty (with a surprise appearance by one Ronnie Wood) at Madison Square Garden in 1986. Unfortunately, he couldn't make it into the city that night.
In 1991 I had an office near Columbus Circle and was living on the upper east side. It would have the easiest thing in the world to go to that show, but I just didn't feel like going alone. It was kinda sad. I literally had to walk around the concert to get home from work that night. I watched it on television in my apartment, live on HBO, just a few blocks from where the concert was taking place without me.
I've gone to many, many things on my own over the years. I'd rather go alone, if need be, than not go at all. I've attended Stones shows both on my own and with friends, but it has to be the "right" friends. If people aren't really into it, I'd rather be on my own.
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Woz
I lived in Bayonne at the time, senior year of high school. Took the bust to Journal Square in Jersey City and hopped he PATH to the city. It was madness in Central Park, but we had weed and beer and had a great time LOL!
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tattersQuote
steffialiciaQuote
tatters
It's impossible for me to listen to the double live album without remembering that I spent all of Side Two looking for a place to take a leak, and all of Side Three returning from the place where I took a leak. For fully half of the concert, I was separated from my friend and nowhere even near to the Great Lawn.
There were no video screens, so there was really nothing to see, nothing to look at. All you could do was listen. The volume of the music fluctuated wildly, the result of the wind literally blowing the sound around from one side of the park to the other and back again. Steve Gadd's booming drums on "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" sounded exactly like someone tapping with their fingers on the dashboard of a car.
It was still a very, very fun night out.
Ten years later, when Paul played an equally massive solo concert in Central Park, I called up the friend I had gone to the 1981 concert with and suggested we have our own little reunion and attend the show together. We were barely still keeping in touch at that point, and hadn't gone to a show together since we'd seen Bob Dylan and Tom Petty (with a surprise appearance by one Ronnie Wood) at Madison Square Garden in 1986. Unfortunately, he couldn't make it into the city that night.
In 1991 I had an office near Columbus Circle and was living on the upper east side. It would have the easiest thing in the world to go to that show, but I just didn't feel like going alone. It was kinda sad. I literally had to walk around the concert to get home from work that night. I watched it on television in my apartment, live on HBO, just a few blocks from where the concert was taking place without me.
I've gone to many, many things on my own over the years. I'd rather go alone, if need be, than not go at all. I've attended Stones shows both on my own and with friends, but it has to be the "right" friends. If people aren't really into it, I'd rather be on my own.
Yes, going to a show with the wrong people can totally ruin the experience. I'll give you a good example of that. Thirty years ago, I took a date to see an all-star tribute to John Lee Hooker that was being held at Madison Square Garden. Sometime during the show, a friend of her's recognizes her and comes over and says he's got access to one of the Garden's luxury suites, and there's a party going on and would we like to join him and his friends? I was perfectly happy where we were, but I figured what the hell, I've never been inside one of those luxury suites before, maybe it'll be fun. So we get up there and there's this party going on and no one, and I mean no one, is paying any attention to the music at all. I'm literally the only person there actively trying to watch and listen to the show. My date is like, "Why don't you come join the party?" and I said, "You see those two guys on the stage? That's John Lee Hooker and Willie Dixon. Onstage. Together. This is something that's literally never going to happen again in the history of the world, so I'd kinda like to see this if you don't mind." So she says, "Well, I guess you can just leave if you want to."
I stayed. Took her home, went through the motions of telling her what a nice time I'd had, and wishing her a good night. And never called her again.
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steffialiciaQuote
tattersQuote
steffialiciaQuote
tatters
It's impossible for me to listen to the double live album without remembering that I spent all of Side Two looking for a place to take a leak, and all of Side Three returning from the place where I took a leak. For fully half of the concert, I was separated from my friend and nowhere even near to the Great Lawn.
There were no video screens, so there was really nothing to see, nothing to look at. All you could do was listen. The volume of the music fluctuated wildly, the result of the wind literally blowing the sound around from one side of the park to the other and back again. Steve Gadd's booming drums on "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" sounded exactly like someone tapping with their fingers on the dashboard of a car.
It was still a very, very fun night out.
Ten years later, when Paul played an equally massive solo concert in Central Park, I called up the friend I had gone to the 1981 concert with and suggested we have our own little reunion and attend the show together. We were barely still keeping in touch at that point, and hadn't gone to a show together since we'd seen Bob Dylan and Tom Petty (with a surprise appearance by one Ronnie Wood) at Madison Square Garden in 1986. Unfortunately, he couldn't make it into the city that night.
In 1991 I had an office near Columbus Circle and was living on the upper east side. It would have the easiest thing in the world to go to that show, but I just didn't feel like going alone. It was kinda sad. I literally had to walk around the concert to get home from work that night. I watched it on television in my apartment, live on HBO, just a few blocks from where the concert was taking place without me.
I've gone to many, many things on my own over the years. I'd rather go alone, if need be, than not go at all. I've attended Stones shows both on my own and with friends, but it has to be the "right" friends. If people aren't really into it, I'd rather be on my own.
Yes, going to a show with the wrong people can totally ruin the experience. I'll give you a good example of that. Thirty years ago, I took a date to see an all-star tribute to John Lee Hooker that was being held at Madison Square Garden. Sometime during the show, a friend of her's recognizes her and comes over and says he's got access to one of the Garden's luxury suites, and there's a party going on and would we like to join him and his friends? I was perfectly happy where we were, but I figured what the hell, I've never been inside one of those luxury suites before, maybe it'll be fun. So we get up there and there's this party going on and no one, and I mean no one, is paying any attention to the music at all. I'm literally the only person there actively trying to watch and listen to the show. My date is like, "Why don't you come join the party?" and I said, "You see those two guys on the stage? That's John Lee Hooker and Willie Dixon. Onstage. Together. This is something that's literally never going to happen again in the history of the world, so I'd kinda like to see this if you don't mind." So she says, "Well, I guess you can just leave if you want to."
I stayed. Took her home, went through the motions of telling her what a nice time I'd had, and wishing her a good night. And never called her again.
An excellent example Tatters. Unfortunate.