So I have to begin by saying I was never a big Boston fan. I never owned a Boston album, but I didn’t hate them. They were just, mediocre in my opinion. I would listen to them on the radio, maybe, but that was about it.
Anyway, Boston was playing at the Hollywood Sportatorium and I had no intention of going to see them. But I was a very entrepreneurial young man and would often go to concerts with coolers full of iced beverages which I would sell to thirsty concertgoers in the parking lot before a show. So my friend Ernie and I loaded the car with beverages and went to the Sporto to make some money. Sales were brisk and soon the coolers were empty and we had pockets full of money. So Ernie suggested we check out the show. I was hesitant, since as I said, I was not a big Boston fan, but Ernesto was eager to check them out, so I conceded and we went and bought tickets at the gate.
The band took the stage, and I was like, “I know this song!” But then it turned out to be a different song. Then it happened again. And again. I realized that every song sounded just like every other song. I was rapidly losing interest. I think I even started yawning—not a good sign at a concert. I looked at Ernie, trying to gauge his interest. He looked somewhat sullen. I speculated he was as bored as I was. I asked if he wanted to cut out, and he said “Yeah.” So we left about halfway through the concert, which for me was fine. The thought of sitting in traffic after a lame concert was too much to bear.
I still do not hate Boston, and I will sing along sometimes when they come on the radio. And I’m glad that I can check them off the list of bands I got to see. But the truth is, they were about as middle-of-the-road as I expected them to be. Oh well, not every concert can be great.