Margit’s Note: Lighters Up

By Margit Detweiler

(Photo: Eric R./Flickr)

In the ‘80s and into the ‘90s, stadium concerts were smoky, sweaty affairs. Pot was prolific, security was meh, the shows legendary. You’d always ditch your ticketed seat to try and push to the front and, once arriving at the third row, jettison one fluorescent polka dotted earring at the stage, nearly missing Simon Le Bon’s butt. Regaling everyone with that moment for months.

A quick list of concert highs and lows:

First Concert: Paging Dr. Noah Drake. Rick Springfield. There, I said it. Nope nothing even remotely cool.

Best Concert: Too many to even try to quantify. But… a nearly five-hour Parliament Funkadelic extravaganza at Philly’s Trocadero in 1993, presided by George Clinton wearing a Sponge Bob Square Pants bed sheet. Give up the funk.

Worst Moment at a Concert: Someone throwing up on my back at a Bruce Springsteen show at the Spectrum.

What was your first, best, worst concert? Tell us in the comments below or on Twitter or Facebook with #firstconcert #bestconcert or #worstconcert  — we’ll share!

This week, we’re jamming the following stories:

• Bethanne goes groupie for two books.
• Jennifer Ha remembers her Rolling Stones moment.
• Jody Jones (somehow) defends Jimmy Buffett.
• Amy mulls over the “secret sauce” of live shows.
• Susan picks booze over Bob.
• Cheryl takes us on a Second-Time Travel to London.
• Dailola Weekly has two turntables and a microphone.
• We compile a few of our favorite concert tees.
• And I stop being a rock critic.

And we’re remembering the man we first met as Mork, became a genie to our kids, and made us laugh for decades. You will be incredibly missed, Robin Williams.

Rock on,

Margit

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Originally Published August 12, 2014. Updated April 4, 2021.