Ah, the things we do for love. Bringing home a bunch of flowers. Cooking — and cleaning up — a special dinner. Getting our partner’s car washed. Going to a concert we could never have imagined wanting tickets to — much less sitting through.

For those of you who are regular readers, you might remember my post from a few weeks ago, talking about how B. actually bought tickets — and went with me! — to a Barry Manilow concert (for better or for verse). Something he would never, ever have considered going to, wanting to go to, or even talking about if not for me, the admitted Fanilow in the family, whom he loves dearly.

So, in the spirit of turnabout being fair play, love being a two-way street, and what’s right being what’s right, it appears that we are going to a Who concert later this week at the Hollywood Bowl.

If you were betting that The Who is B.’s choice, you’re right — not one of my friends, past or present, would ever take me for a Who fan. Let’s just say that when it came to our high-school and college years, mine were a lot less adventurous (probably because I always had my nose in a book); a lot more sheltered (thanks, Mom and Dad); and a lot less fun (as a result of the other two) than B.’s. Also a lot less rock and roll (hence the Fanilow status), although, thankfully, Springsteen made the cut.

Not to say that I know nothing about The Who’s music. I know a good deal from Tommy and I can sing along  — somewhat — to Who anthems like Behind Blue Eyes, My Generation, and Who Are You (I particularly like the expletive-laden line in that last one — how much of a bad girl am I?). I’ve even been listening to B.’s song suggestions for the past two weeks (concerts are always better when you actually know the music, duh) and am now ready to go. To quote John Fogerty, “Put me in Coach, I’m ready to play.”

Times like this remind me that the person I was all those years ago has been changed — in a good way — by what I’ve done, where my life has taken me, when it was that I realized my possibilities, why I’ve made the choices I have, and how I’ve managed to get from there to here. Who I am is a work that has progressed quite a bit.

So bring on Daltrey with those killer blue eyes (even if they are behind blue spectacles these days).

Who needs Mandy?

© 2019 Claudia Grossman