First Time (part two)

In the Spring of 1972 everyone was talking about the upcoming Rolling Stones Tour. My brother, 8 years older than me, had tickets for their Toronto show at Maple Leaf Gardens. He bought me a ticket though I never said I wanted to go (I wasn't a rock music fan when I was a kid). When the day of the show came, he and I had an argument because I said I didn't want to go. He tried laying a guilt trip on me about the price of the tickets (I think they were $5 each) but I wouldn't budge. That was until my dad said that he'd go with him. Gad! How embarrassing for my brother. I had to save him from the humility he'd obviously feel walking into the arena with his father. "Okay," I said finally. "I'll go." At least Stevie Wonder was opening the show and I already loved him.

The way I remember it, Stevie almost walked off the front of the stage as he wandered from instrument to instrument during one song. I think I remember Mick riding an inflatable penis and rose pedals falling down from the rafters during "Angie." I definitely remember the hash on a pin being passed from person to person in the row in front of us and the goat skin wine flask I handed to whomever was sitting to my left. After the show, as we crossed Carleton St. on the way to the subway I noticed that my hearing was shot. I thought that I had gone deaf from attending just one concert.

That was my first concert.