Billy Idol gives "More, More, More"

Billy Idol Tour Shirt 2013

I had seen Billy Idol in concert twice at Alpine Valley in the 1980s. So when I heard he was coming to Summerfest on June 27th, there was absolutely no way I was going to miss his show. My first inclination was to call Amy, my best college friend and bosomy buddy. She and I had gone to Billy's concerts together back in the day. However, she just had a brand new baby boy (shout out to Baby Alexander!), so she was not available. My other friends were going to see another band, and my 40-hour-a-week employed friends could not get the day off. So the honor of attending the hard-rocking concert with me fell to…you guessed it…my Mom. 

The Festival Experience 

Just outside the Marcus Amphitheater at the south end of Henry Maier Festival Park is the new BMO Harris stage. It's an amphitheater about 1/2 the size of Marcus, with it's stage facing west and the audience east (a set up that is opposite of Marcus). Reserved tickets could have been ordered in advance online for a $5 handling fee per ticket. Festival-goers could get free reserved seats at 2 p.m. at the box office on the festival grounds on the day of the show. By the time we had arrived just after 2 p.m., we learned eager fans had waited in line since noon and all the free tickets were given out in less than 20 minutes. At that point, there was no choice but to take our chances with the totally free "first-come-first-served" bleacher seating. 

It was Senior Day and admission for Mom was free, so I only had to use one ticket for myself. (Shout out to my buddy Khay for the ticket!) The day started out sunny and hot, even down by the lake it was a balmy 78 degrees. But shortly after arriving, true to typical Milwaukee weather, clouds rolled in from the Northwest and there was a sudden downpour of rain. Thank goodness we were under the protection of the amphitheater! It cooled off some, but the clouds drifted over Lake Michigan, the atmosphere heated up again. 

We made our way slowly from one end of the festival park to the other, looking at exhibits and gathering freebies along the way. We grabbed dinner at Wong's Wok. The Wok is always a good value at Summerfest as the food is fresh and hot, the proportions are generous, the prices are reasonable and the lines are short and move quickly. Mom and I shared an Empress plate of Sweet Sour Chicken with Shrimp Fried Rice and an Imperial Egg Roll for under $10. Yum!

Scoring some decent bleacher seats for Billy Idol's concert.

Setting the Stage 

About 7 p.m., we meandered to the bleacher section of the BMO Harris stage and found seats centrally located in the fifth row. The people around us seemed fun and nice and not at all obnoxious. The median age of the audience was a comfortable 40-something. There were only a handful of folks that were "dressed the part". One really old lady was covered head to foot with faded wrinkly tattoos. She was a hot mess. Another skinny old lady wore a blue spandex dress with a Union Jack design, white fishnet stockings and white knee-hi go-go boots…all of which hung very loose on her skeletal form. Another woman seemed out of place because she wore a gold sequined mini dress as if she were attending a wedding reception and not a lakefront music festival. Nonetheless, it was fun to "People Watch." 

A bit of a heavenly light show before the concert.

The opening act "Cherry Pie" performed music from artists like Tesla, Skid Row, AeroSmith and AC/DC. The weather began to turn ominous again…nasty clouds, lightning and wind…and the band finished their set with an appropriate rendition of "Rock U Like a Hurricane". Mom was getting concerned, but I felt safer in BMO than I ever did at Marcus during a storm. 

Eventually, the storms moved out over the lake, and the clouds broke in the west and a double rainbow appeared. God put on one wild nature show to which no man-made light show or pyrotechnics could compare! 

It's Show Time! 

Finally...FINALLY...the sun went down and Billy Idol's band came out exactly at 9:45 p.m. Suddenly, I was 21 again...screaming like a...a...crazed fan! I can't believe how exciting it was! I forgot how electrifying Billy Idol is! Billy opened the show with "Dancing with Myself" to the deafening cheers from a crowd filled to capacity. Although he did not sport his signature fingerless gloves, he was clad in a mix of black leather and demin with studded details, and a variety of shirts from a white button-down to black t-shirt. Billy Idol still has it. He's still hot, hot, HOT. 
 

Going into the concert, I was a little worried about how Billy's persona would have held up over the years. Sometimes, its possible to carry great memories of a Star's younger days only to find the Star's "glitter" has faded to a disappointing level. But this is not the case with Billy Idol. MAN! Whew! I'm smiling still just writing about it. He is in great shape physically. He made his wardrobe changes directly on stage, taking his shirts off (to the delight of the crowd) quite often. His voice is still easily identifiable "Billy Idol". 

I was also concerned about Mom. It was a long day, turning into a long night and I wasn't sure what her stamina level would allow. Plus, I was a little worried that Billy might say or do something that she might find offensive. When she leaned over to me and quoted Adam Sandler from the 1998 movie The Wedding Singer: "Billy Idol gets it", I knew she was having a good time. Additionally, I think she was enjoying ME having a good time. 

Billy Idol and his Abs on the JumboTron

In a mix of riotous tunes and melodious ballads, Billy performed some of this greatest hits with a seasoning of lesser known songs and delighted the audience with a catchy new single "Love and Glory." Versatile and talented, he sang songs like "Sweet Sixteen" and told a little history behind the song. When he sang "Mony Mony"...there's always that little added segment that starts out "Hey! Hey What?"...some of you may know the rest of the R-Rated response, but I always preferred the tamer Wisconsin version of it: "Eat Cheese, Drink Milk".  

Moving On Up

About midway through the show, some people two rows ahead of us left the concert. The people in the first 2 rows weren't standing much, so I told mom we'd move up so she could sit during the show and still see Billy. We were then in the 3rd row with a little better view. 

There was a musical interlude when the entire band left the stage, save for master guitarist Steve Stevens, Billy's long time lead guitarist. He played a riveting guitar solo that encompassed classical fingering with a Spanish flavor and the opening measures of "Stairway to Heaven" which delighted the fans. 

Then, the people in the first row of the bleachers left, and Mom shouted, "Come on!" and we went down further to sit in the front row. We could not have enjoyed better seats! Billy performed "White Wedding" to the pleasure of the crowd. When he sang "L.A. Woman" he substituted "Milwaukee" in place of "L.A." and, of course, the audience LOVED that! 
 

Classic Billy Idol and his "Rebel Yell"

He finished his show with "Rebel Yell" as his encore, the light show behind him displayed multiple images of his face and his name in rapid succession of colors. He then introduced each band member, especially thanking Steve. Then Billy addressed the audience: "Milwaukee...thanks for making my life so f***ing great!" Then he shouted, "I'm on guitar and I'm Billy F***ing IDOL! See you next year!" and his audience went wild! And truly, it was HIS audience. This crowd came to see Billy Idol and he gave them everything they came for. 

A Lasting Impression

There were smiles all around the sea of concert-goers as Mom and I slowly made our way to exit at the main gate. "Well," I commented to Mom, "Billy only used the F-word a few times." "Yes..." Mom replied, "But why did his mom name him THAT?" (You gotta love Mom's sense of humor!) "Eh," I mused, "That might have been his dad's idea." We walked along further. "When I tell people I saw Billy Idol," Mom informed me, "I'm not going to use his middle name." "That's fine...." I laughed as I put my arm around her shoulders. "In the Midnight hour", as we walked down the street to our parked car, Mom smiled, "Your friends missed a good show." Indeed they did. 

Billy Idol and me...

Epilogue

Over the years, I have attended many "Oldies" concerts with Mom. Together we've seen performances by Ricky Nelson, Jan and Dean, Bobby Vee, The Platters, Frankie Vallie, Peter Noone, Gene Pitney, and The Buckinghams, just to name a few. But here and there, Mom has come with me to see some of the bands and performers my friends and I used to listen to on the radio: Survivor, Loverboy and now Billy Idol. I waited a couple days to post this entry on my blog, because I wanted to get a sense of Mom's overall impression of Billy Idol and his show. I overhear Mom readily relay her concert experience to family and friends, and it sounds like she had a pretty good time. That makes me smile. 

One last thing: If I could, I'd say "Thanks, Billy" for yet another memorable concert experience.

The Main Event

Sean O'Grady and Al Albert ringside.

From 1982 to 1997, the USA Network on cable television broadcasted a sports series called “USA Tuesday Night Fights.” Hosted by Al Albert and former lightweight champion Sean O’Grady, it was a weekly program that featured up-and-coming amateur boxers. My Dad would watch these matches and one night he called out to me, “Come watch this fight.”

 

Ingrid Bergman teaching boxing from a manual...

Now, I had never watched a boxing match in my life, and I knew nothing more than seeing Ingrid Bergman shuffling her feet in the 1945 movie, The Bells of St. Mary. In the film, Bergman portrays “Sister Benedict”, a strong-willed nun who matches wits with Bing Crosby’s laid-back character “Father O’Malley”. Set in a Catholic school, both have different ideas regarding how to administer to the students. While Sr. Benedict does not condone fighting, in one scene she takes it upon herself to teach one of the schoolboys how to defend himself against the schoolyard bully. “Keep your hands up,” “Guard your chin,” and “Keep your feet moving” are some of the tips she gives the boy as she bobs and weaves in her religious habit. 

I had no idea why my Dad wanted me to watch boxing on television, but I was never one to turn down any amount of “Daddy-Daughter” Time. It’s not what you do, but whom you are doing it with that matters most. And if my Dad wanted to watch two guys pummel each other silly with me, well then all right, I was there whole-heartedly.

“Watch this kid fight,” Dad said as I sat down on the floor in front of the television. The “kid” he was referring to was Anthony Boyle, a young boxer from Philadelphia. His opponent was a fellow pugilist with whom he grew up and trained alongside. Then Dad added, “He’s fighting his against his best friend.” 

WAIT. What now? I could not imagine punching my best friend in the face for any reason! I drew a deep breath and thought, ‘Okay, this’ll be over in like, what—ten maybe 15 minutes tops?’ and I could get back to my regularly scheduled college-life activity.

The match was, by far, the BEST boxing I had ever watched. It was clear these two athletes put everything they had into that bout. Even to a spectator with an untrained eye like mine, it was obvious that the match was more of a display of skill and a game of strategy. How to avoid being hurt by what your skillful opponent is throwing at you. Friends or not, the competitors were relentless. 

It was back-and-forth, non-stop action. I could hear Sister Benedict’s voice “keep moving, guard your chin” as I watched both men: one trying to land a clean punch to earn judges’ points, the other anticipating the moves and countering with a block or combination of his own punches. 

As I sat on the floor in front of the television, my body twitched left, then right, involuntarily reacting to the action on the screen. Quiet bursts of “uh!” and “er!” inexplicably emitted from my throat. From behind me, I could hear my Dad softly chuckling as he watched my response to the fight with mild amusement. 

At the conclusion of the fight, the most amazing thing happened. In my mind’s eye, I can still see the post-match turmoil in the middle of the boxing ring and the two fierce competitors breathlessly embraced. Their “game faces” gone, their body language completely relaxed. They appeared to be just a couple of “buddies”. 

Looking back at Dad, I began asking questions about the sport. He patiently answered each one. It was a lesson in control and discipline. Dad had a sort of “I-told-you-so” smile on his face because he knew I was hooked. We enjoyed watching the fights together every Tuesday night from then on. 

Anthony Boyle had a winning career with 26 bouts in the W column (with 12 KO), only 6 Losses and 1 Draw.  Mr. Boyle is still active with the Pennsylvania Golden Gloves Boxing organization were he got his own start in the sport. In an email correspondence, he told me there have been so many fights, it is hard to recall the details to all of them. 

Father's Day a long time ago: my brother, Dad, and me.

This is true for spectators as well. I did not recall the name of Boyle’s opponent in that bout. I don’t remember how long it lasted. I don’t even remember which boxer won the match, although online resources would strongly suggest it was Boyle. 

There is one thing I will never forget about this Main Event: it provided a connection to Dad that I never would have imagined and one that I will always cherish.

Inspired by Father's Day.

Tuesdays with Ronny

Uncle Ron keeping his eye on the ball; 55+ League 2012.

 Spring is in full swing, so are the city softball leagues. Tuesday mornings the ball diamonds at Burnham Park are teeming with seasoned ballplayers of the 55+ League.  

The friendly league is as fair as it can be. There is a "5-Run Inning" rule that ends an inning in the event of one team scoring five runs, to give equal opportunity of play for both teams.

Team rosters change each season, so that every player has the opportunity to have a winning season. Fellows who played against each other the previous season may find themselves on the same team the next. There are no “Ringers”…a term usually reserved for beefy homerun hitters brought in to tilt the scales in favor of one team over another. At best, a team may have a “Bionic Man” … a player with two knee braces—evidence of joint replacement surgery.

Schaff's Funeral Service players rest between innings, 2012.

Whereas younger leagues are sponsored in large part by taverns and pubs hoping team members will patronize their fine establishments after the games, the 55+ League is sponsored mostly by local funeral homes. One player joked that the sponsoring home’s name on his back was not advertising…it was a “shipping label.”

The 55+ games are played at a significantly slower pace than other leagues. Though the participants are not as agile as they once were, there is definitely an effort put forth by each player. There are occasional bobble and missed catches. While the majority of the participants are laughing and laid-back, there are one or two who are still overtly competitive. I’ve come to the conclusion that young men who scrap and complain on the ball diamond grow to become old men who still scrap and complain on the ball diamond. All in all, it is a morning of activity and camaraderie.  

55+ League 2012 Champions with their two biggest fans!

Although my 80-year-old Uncle Ron no longer plays, he is still involved in the league, keeping score for one of the teams. His last two years as an active player saw both his teams playing in the Championship games. Wearing the team colors and cheering them on, Mom and I attended almost every game last season.

The summer of 2012 was the final active season for my uncle. When his team won the Championship game, he decided to retire and hang up his cleats on a high-note. We teased him that he might do a “Favre” and come out of retirement once “Spring Fever” got into his blood. But, as he assured us, that did not happen. 

"Coach" Ron shouts some encouragement from the bench, 2013.

This year, Uncle Ron seems content watching from the bench, keeping score, recording statistics, taking photos and providing encouragement to his team. Although he is not playing, my uncle still expects Mom and me to be in the bleachers…so do some of the other players who have come to know us from last season. 

As I observed him watching the action on the field, I wondered what he was thinking about. Was he wishing he were out there with them? Was he calculating the players’ next moves like a chess match? Then again, knowing the way my uncle’s brain works, I thought it more likely that he was daydreaming about “a time when…” and I was not far off with that assumption.

Uncle Ron walked over to us with a smile and related the following story from his early days playing for a former employer’s team:

“When I was playing infield a ground ball was hit to me. The runner from first base started to run. I was going to turn the double play. I got that ball in my glove. I spun around. You know that movie with that guy looking out over the horizon?”

“What?” I asked, my mind racing through all the baseball movies I could think of: The Natural? Field of Dreams? Bad News Bears—the 1976 original with Walter Matthau, or the 2005 remake?

Who's covering Second Base?

“That guy in the desert,” replied my uncle.

“Who? Lawrence of Arabia?” guessed Mom. 

“Yeah,” said Uncle Ron.

Wait. I was confused. Was there a baseball scene in Lawrence of Arabia? 

“When I turned to flip the ball to second base,” my uncle continued, “there was not a soul in sight! It was like a barren desert. A wasteland. No one was covering second base.” My uncle chuckled, “So I had to throw to first base. And the other guys kidded that I was the only one who had studied the playbook.”

Uncle Ron then turned his attention back to the field of play. Not more than five minutes later, the exact sequence of events my uncle had just described played out on the field before us. Uncle Ron shot me a mixed glance of amusement and surprise, and whispered, “That’s what I just talked about!” I nodded and whispered back, “I saw that!” 

Peanuts, Cracker Jacks and Donuts...

A few moments later, Uncle Ron pointed out that one of the players had brought donuts. This triggered another memory of “a time when…” for him. On this remembered occasion, he was not playing but coaching a game. On the way to the game, Uncle Ron had stopped to buy donuts for his little league team. The boys were down 19 – 2, and he was coaching at first base. One of his players hollered over to him, “Hey, Coach!” 

“Yeah, what is it?” Uncle Ron yelled back.

“There’s one donut left in the box,” the boy shouted, “Do you think I could have it?”

Uncle Ron explains the FUNdamentals of the game; 2013.

“No!” my uncle answered him. Uncle Ron chuckled at the memory, “He was more concerned about the donuts."

"Yep," I laughed, "I guess his priorities were situational.” 

Then turning his attention back to the present day’s game, Uncle Ron yelled to his team, “Hey! Who made that last out?”

Watching the Tuesday morning 55+ League is entertaining. Enjoying it with Uncle Ron is really something special.

Inspired by the “Senior Boys of Summer.”