The kid is still reasonably warm tonite

This one's gonna make me sound like an old man...

...okay, I am an old man, but shit!

Let's go back to a time when probably most of the people reading this weren't even born yet. I'm talking the summer of 1980. I was not quite 18. I was working at a lumber mill for the summer and thought I was the cat's ass, rolling in the dough, making the princely sum of $3.17 per hour.

(To put that in perspective, my best friend was working part-time at McDonald's for $2.15 per hour)

I was about to head into my 13th and final year of school—because, yes, these were still the days of Grade 13—and, because I was, for all intents and purposes, rich, and it was summer, I saw quite a few concerts that summer.

Supertramp's Breakfast in America tour. REO Speedwagon's Hi Infidelity tour. A couple of others. But probably the one I remember the most was April Wine, still touring on their massive Harder...Faster... album. And the opener for them were this new Canadian band that I just freaking loved. Loverboy.

Their first album was obviously trying to capture a bit of the new wave crowd with the androgynous smoker on the cover, to be honest. It's a total mismatch of image to music.

Anyway, I will say that, Bob and Dale and Dennis and I were all excited for the show, and I'm guessing, had you asked me at the time, who I wanted to see more, Loverboy or April Wine, I likely would have picked Loverboy. I can't tell you how much that album lived on my turntable that year.

I can tell you that I remember going to the stadium at the CCE (Central Canadian Exhibition) in Ottawa and that stadium was PACKED with teenagers and early twenty-somethings. I remember, at one point, one of our group had a desperate urge to pee (I won't out them by saying which one) and I had to as well, so I remember joining this exceptionally long line for the washroom. It seemed to take hours to get up to the urinals, and my buddy, ahead of me, was doing the pee-pee dance by the time we got there. He didn't have to go, he NEEDED TO GO.

Finally, he got to the urinal. I was directly behind him. There were at least eight urinals in a row, each one manned by a furiously urinating individual. Except my buddy. I could only see his back, but I could see the tell-tale shaking of his shoulders that told me he had that nervous giggle of his going.

"What's going on?" I said, as quietly as I could.

"Can't go!" he said.

"What? Why not?"

"Stage fright!"

Eventually, he zipped up, and stepped away. I stepped up and did what I'd come to do. We left the washroom and a look of utter desperate horror spread over my buddy's face. "What's wrong?" I said.

"Still gotta go."

"You're telling me you didn't piss?"

"NO!" he said, his voice kind of shaking. "STAGE FRIGHT!"

Eventually, he was so desperate, we ended up walking to the far end of the stadium. Lots of seats, but the sight angles for the stage must have been bad, because there was no one sitting there. A field of empty seats. My buddy hopped down to squat between the rows and was finally able to, as we said back in the day, "drain the main vein." It took a long time. He obviously truly NEEDED TO GO. I stood lookout, not that I believe he would have been able to curb that stream if required to. But he at least got done what he needed to do.

Yes, on the concrete floor of the stadium seating area. Trust me, I'm sure worse liquids had been spilled there previous to this.

Yes, I know this has nothing to do with my story of Loverboy, but it stands out in my memory, so I thought I'd share, for what it's worth.

The concert itself was fantastic, with both bands just tearing through their respective catalogues. Loverboy's was obvious a much more limited one, with a grand total of nine songs on the first album. I will note that, beside the keyboard player, there was a saxophone, that personally I was quite excited to see, because there was only one song on that first album that had a sax part, and it was the album closer, It Don't Matter. The main song covered the same ground as the rest of the album, a somewhat poppy rock sound, but the closer slid into this cool reggae funk that had a great sax part over the top of it. I loved that song, primarily for that last minute and change of reggae and sax.

Loverboy blasted through most of their songs and...didn't play It Don't Matter. That sax sat there in its stand, unplayed and unloved. Still, it was a great show from an opening band and, reportedly, the very first time an opener was called back for an encore.

Seriously, in 1980, Loverboy was electrifying.

Flash forward forty-five full years.

That almost-18-year-old, working his first summer job, is now the almost-63-year-old, retired from decades of corporate work, married, kids grown up and moved out. And, to quote Loverboy: "Don't look now, but guess who's back in town?"

Loverboy. Well, no shit. This time, they had another seminal Canadian band, Trooper, opening for them. The venue was the much more civilized Pickering Casino Resort, and the crowd was a bunch of pre-seniors and 70-somethings. The tickets likely cost ten times what I'd paid to see Loverboy and April Wine back in the day.

Trooper came on and, to be honest, I truly wasn't expecting much. There's actually not a single founding member of the band left. I'll admit, I wondered, as I watched this band my buddy referred to as "the Trooper cover band" go through their hits, how weird it must feel to sing the lyrics of a bunch of hits from the band that you had no hand in writing? How strange is it to replicate the chord changes and solos that were created by the band members who came—and left—before you?

Yet, for all of that, these guys hit those songs with a ferocious energy, and they played the hell out of them. They did well, and I enjoyed their set very much. The only downside was the ridiculous human beside me (no, not my wife, the stranger to the other side of me). She was one of those sixty-somethings who still dress like they're a teenager, which, to be frank, I kind of don't truly care about. You do you. But when you're also trying to act like you're still that way, constantly snapping and posting selfies on social media throughout the concert, sneaking shots off your vape, and dancing like no one's watching (or anywhere near you) so that your arms and ass are constantly in my face? Then we have a problem and yes, I'm gonna fucking judge you.

Hey, we're all there for a good time (as the Trooper song goes), but when your good time begins to infringe on the good time of those around you? Not cool. Grow up a bit.

Anyway, when Trooper finished, there was a bit of a break as the roadies dropped their stage set down and pulled out Loverboy's. Me and my buddy needed to use the washroom.

And no, this is not another stagefright story...

No, instead, this time, there was still a long line to the washroom. I can only assume there was a longer line for the women's washroom, because my buddy said, "Oh look, your friend is here." Yes, the stoned, sixty-something vigorously dancing teenager beside me...was now in line with another woman, for the men's washroom.

And once again, I don't give a flying fuck which washroom you use. We're all big boys and girls, and we can deal with this.

But, once again, instead of just coming in and grabbing a stall and doing your business, no, her and her friend have to put on some stupid show of swaying their hips with their hands around each others' waists, and go into the stall together. You know what? Again, don't care if you're gonna do something in there together, but if half the reason you're even in this room is to show off for the captive male audience? Yeah, you're an attention whore and I ain't interested. You're just sad.

So, interestingly, two Loverboy shows, four-and-a-half decades apart, bathroom shenanigans continue.

After the shenanigans, we got back to our seats, and we were talking about the two bands, and wondering about the ages of the members.

Turns out Mike Reno, singer for Loverboy, is 70. Paul Dean, the guitarist, is 79. We figured they were older, but that kind of caught us by surprise. But hey, rock and roll never dies, right?

Gotta say, I was kind of excited when, behind the keyboards, I saw something that made me smile: a saxophone. Hmmm, maybe this time they'll do It Don't Matter?

Hey, a guy can hope, right? Surely to god they haven't been hauling around a sax for almost fifty years and never used it...

Finally, Loverboy took the stage. And I have to say, Paul Dean has always had a monstrous, growly guitar sound. It's not as evident on their first album, and I think they might have been going for a bit more of a Radio Friendly Unit Shifter with that one. I also firmly believe that, when Turn Me Loose took off, Dean pointed and said, "that's the direction I wanna go," because each of the subsequent albums seemed to rock a little harder, and the guitar got more and more growly.

So, out comes Dean, and the guitar growls and screams. He looks pretty damn good for pushing 80. Mike Reno, on the other hand, came out, seeming to step carefully. Turns out, I turned to my wife the same time my buddy's wife turned to him and we both said, "Wow, he moves like he's 70."

He really does. And obviously, at that age, he's not hitting the high notes quite as easily or with as much power. His breath control is a touch more limited.

But damned if he still couldn't belt out the songs for the most part.

It was a hell of a concert. They did three songs from the first album, two from the third, two from the fourth, and one from the fifth album, choosing to bust out six from their second, and biggest, album. One of my favourite Loverboy songs is Take Me To The Top, the closer from the second album (why do I always glom onto the closing tracks on albums?) and I was excited when they pulled that one out.

But man, did they rework it. It ended up going into an extended solo that was close to jazz. There was a cool, freeform keyboard solo, some harmonica and...

...and he busted out the sax and did a really good solo on it.

It wasn't It Don't Matter, and it wasn't reggae, but still...

For a couple of hours, I was that almost-18-year-old kid again. This life can be strange at times. I know I tend to wallow a lot more in nostalgia, because there's so many years to look back upon and remember. I'm sure I'm a boring old fart to many now, but the past is always there to mine, and it's easy to do. On the other hand, Jim Morrison was right when he said, "the future's uncertain and the end is always near."

And each day, it gets just a little more near. So, I'll take my fun where I can.

Finally, the show was done, and the old guys took their creaky, likely aching joints off the stage, having offered up one hell of a good time. Between Trooper and Loverboy, there was exactly one song (in Trooper's set) that I didn't recognize. The rest I got to sing along with.

I don't know if I'd call Loverboy electrifying forty-five years after the first time I'd seen them. But they were surprisingly good for a bunch of old guys.

And, forty-five years later, they even played that damn sax.

Finally.

bathroom shenanigans