Barnstable Patriot on Tweeter

Brian Cady brianinatlanta2001 at
Fri May 28 16:30:30 CDT 2004


Who makes you feel young again? Yes
Pete and Roger haven't missed a beat
By Melora B. North
Melora at

The other day I turned back the clock and revisited my
youth. My friend Berrie and I headed off-Cape to
attend a Who concert at the Tweeter Center, taking
along her two teenage boys and nearly teenage
daughter, who are also wild about the group.

It's been a while since I have attended a rock concert
so I was psyched, in fact all of us were. Berrie
claimed she didn't sleep well the night before and
said that her 11-year-old daughter jumped out of bed
promptly at 6:15 that morning without the usual
prodding. The boys, of course, were a bit more
circumspect and didn't outwardly admit to their
excitement, though their antsy body language spoke

For days Berrie planned the trip: she organized the
tickets; got directions off the net, which were
naturally wrong, for surely it couldn't have been the
co-pilot, moa; went marketing and packed a tail gate
picnic that could have fed 20 without any problem. My
job was to bring along a bottle of wine and make some
chili, which I was dying to do because I have this new
gadget I wanted to test.

For Christmas I received this cooler type thing you
plug into the lighter to activate. There are three
selections, off, hot and cold. Securing the chili
between my two feet in the front seat I sat back, way
back, and Berrie plugged in the gadget ­ I couldn't
reach the lighter, my seat was stuck in recline and
wouldn't budge ­ I then flipped the switch to hot.

Well, I'm here to tell you, hot does indeed work. My
feet were so warm by the time we arrived at the
Tweeter I had to take my sneaks off for a few minutes
so my feet could cool down. Oh doggie! Next time we
lose power I know where I'm going to heat up my
tootsies ­ the car. This puppy works for three hours
on the lighter before dragging on the battery, or so
they say, so it is an interesting option. I suppose I
could even do a little cooking out there as well.
Certainly the car smelled delicious on the drive up.

Arriving in Mansfield, we got lost and quickly asked
directions, after all, women were in charge on this
adventure and unlike our adored men folk we had no
illusions of direction grandeur, though we did pick
poorly. The first couple we tracked down with the Jeep
were delighted when we finally got their attention.

"Oh, the Tweeter, you must be going to see the Who,"
this slightly paunchy gentleman declared in a giant
British accent. "We've been there but couldn't tell
you how to get there, we're here from England on
vacation you see."

Oh yes, we saw. They were friendly but not the people
we needed to talk to. Hounding down another
unsuspecting option we finally got some direction and
proceeded on our way. Just to be sure we were going
the right way we tracked down yet another man who
directed us the same way ­ we were cool.

When we finally arrived at Tweeter central, we pulled
into the parking lot and set up house beside some
friendly people who were enjoying a large selection of
appetizers and beverages. Not to be outdone, Berrie
proceeded to pull out the deli tray, three selections
of bread and rolls, pickles, the accoutrements, five
bags of assorted chips, potato salad, brownies, a huge
bag of grapes and more, I just can't remember what,
and of course the hot chili and some corn bread. We
were set for life.

Settling into our beach chairs, Berrie and I enjoyed a
peaceful glass of wine while the kids impatiently ate
sandwiches and eagerly perused the crowd. It was
mostly SUV families with a modest showing of sedans,
all engaged in a picnic of one sort or another. The
barbecues were going, the beer was flowing and the
adults, which were the main gang, yakking amongst
themselves. Stereos were blaring Who music while
patrolmen on bikes toured the terrain. Footballs were
being tossed in the field as cruising youngsters
checked out the parking lot to see if their friends
had arrived.

When we finally finished our relaxing, Berrie and I
packed up the goods and loaded the chairs back into
the car. The kids needed a change of scene and we were
anxious to get to the grassy area where our seats
were. Once settled, the boys found some friends to
hang with, Berrie was delighted she no longer had to
keep an eagle eye out. She just wanted to concentrate
on her girlhood crush Roger Daltrey, lead singer and
occasional guitarist for the Who.

And Anna, Berrie's daughter, was simply so caught up
in the frenzy of the evening that she just wanted to
be at her mother's side to experience the experience.
We were in pig heaven on our blankets in the lush
grass that was thick like a mattress.

The set started with "Who Are You," the crowd went
nuts. "Baba O'Riley" came next then "Substitute,"
"Magic Bus," "Behind Blue Eyes," "Love Reign O'er Me"
and other older numbers mixed with some new offerings.
Roger and Pete Townshend, guitar and vocals, may be a
little long in the tooth but they certainly are
running on Everready batteries because they never

The set went on for nearly two hours and the audience
never stopped to sit. They just danced and sang on, as
did the music. When it was time to wrap the applause
and hoots and hollers were enticing enough for the Who
to come back on stage where they proceeded to wow us
with a medley of tunes from the rock opera "Tommy,"
the late-'60s double-album turned '70s movie turned
'90s Broadway musical.

It was awesome and inspiring to see those two old
heartthrobs up there mesmerizing an audience yet once
again. This is the second tour without bassist John
Entwistle, who died in 2002, and the countless tour
since original drummer Keith Moon died in 1978.

They sure got to Berrie and me, and guess what,
according to Berrie, her children who never spoke a
word on the way up to the Tweeter and slept all the
way home, haven't stopped talking about the concert
yet, and it is nearly four days later. And further,
guess what, my legs are finally back to normal.

I paid a toll for all that dancing on these old limbs
and it has taken a few days to recover, let alone get
my hearing back. Oh to be 16 again, what beautiful

-Brian in Atlanta
The Who This Month!

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