OPINION: Don't miss out when the greats show up

Apr. 2—If you get a chance to see one of the greats, take it — even if the tickets cost you more than you should spend.

By "greats," I certainly don't mean reality show stars, and I wouldn't cross the street to get a close-up view of most national-level politicians. In fact, I'd rather wade through a vat of liquid at a sewer plant than get anywhere near either type. I'm talking about rock bands, but if you're into country, same thing. If Garth Brooks is touring and he's on your bucket list, grab a ticket before it's too late. Neither of you are getting any younger.

I spent 2022 in anticipation of seeing Aerosmith perform in Vegas. They had a residency at a resort there, and had a series of shows planned throughout the year. In February, we bought four tickets for the July 2 concert. We were taking our son and his fiancée; it was to be Cole's birthday gift, since Aerosmith is his favorite band. I even bought a cool pair of blue metallic-looking, lace-topped ankle boots to go with an outfit I've only worn once, when we saw the Rolling Stones Oct. 29, 2021. I thought frontman Steven Tyler might like them; everyone else certainly does. No footwear of mine has received more compliments.

But the band canceled that show and a few others around it. Apparently, the Demon of Screamin' had to go back into rehab for the umpteenth time, having gotten a little too chummy with the opioids using after foot surgery. Still, no worries; we exchanged those tickets for a show set for Dec. 11, and waited — and it happened again. Owing to some other illness of Tyler's, the last three shows went off the tour.

It was disappointing. Most of those guys are more than 10 years older than I am, and I'm no spring chicken. I'm not sure they'll ever tour again. Yes, we saw them in 2018 at the New Orleans Jazz Festival, but cramming into a fairgrounds field covered in sticktights and mud isn't quite the same as a sleek arena show with all the accouterments.

I have several friends who share with me a deep regret for not seizing opportunities to see bands that no longer exist. Some groups can add new members when one of them dies, quits, or falls into a half-life of drugs and booze. But a few musicians simply cannot be replaced. Apparently, led Zeppelin decided that was the case for John Bonham. Rush won't do anything else without Neil Peart. There's no way INXS could move forward without Michael Hutchence, and the loss of Chris Cornell devastated Soundgarden, and in fact, a decent chunk of the music and movie industry. Both of the latter men took their own live, just like Kurt Cobain. Suicide is prevalent among artists — it seems like the more brilliant they are, the deeper their angst.

Then there are those who die of natural causes — old age, or perhaps a disease — that we wish we'd seen. Count David Bowie among those I'll always wish I'd seen perform live. Probably worse is never being able to see Queen in concert. Brian May and Roger Taylor still exist, and they're exceptional, but Adam Lambert can't hold a candle to Freddie Mercury. I missed out on John Lennon and George Harrison, but I did get to see Ringo Starr, and there's always a chance I'll someday get a crack at Paul McCartney. I did get lucky with David Crosby and Christine McVie, because Crosby Stills and Nash (with or without Young) and Fleetwood Mac are, for all practical purposes, done.

But let me tell you a story about regret that almost everyone can identify with. It started out at the New Orleans Jazz Festival in 2017. A number of great acts were on the menu, but Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were headliners, closing out the last show Sunday on the biggest stage, Acura. As usual, we were there with my sister and my family. Lisa's daughter, Amber, was there, and so were my son and his best friend.

It was rainy and miserable that day, so the fairgrounds weren't open. Cole, John and Amber were bored so they went bar-hopping across the way in Algiers. The downpour subsided early in the afternoon, and we were hanging out in our hotel room when my brother-in-law, in a room down the call, called Chris on his cell. He'd heard they were about to reopen the fairgrounds, and said, "Let's grab the bikes and ride out there!" I called Cole and told him, "Get back here now! We're going to the fairgrounds." Cole said, "Petty's always on tour. I'll catch him later." They decided to stay put.

I'd seen Petty many times, mainly as a warm-up for other bands during the late '70s and early '80s. But on this evening, we walked up to the "pit," and stood very close to the stage. It was fabulous; Petty had never been in better form, and the same for the band. Everyone around us was exhilarated.

That was April 30, 2017. Five months later, Tom Petty was dead. Cole will never get to see one of the greatest pure rock 'n' roll musicians who ever lived.

Over the years, when one of the greats came to Tulsa or Oklahoma City, my husband or I might say, "We can't afford to do that." I'm here to say that in the case of a certain number of the best of the best, you can't afford not to. You may never get another chance.