STONED
It’s easy to let your life flash before your eyes when you’re at a Rolling Stones concert. Twenty-five years have passed since that day at the L.A. Coliseum. Those were the days of festival seating -- people arrived the night before to rush the gates at noon. And while they waited, they partied. As a result, Exposition Park was a mess. I had to tiptoe through puddles of vomit on my way in to the venue. But I did get to see the panties-and-garter wearing Prince booed off the stage and the Stones sponsored by Jovan.

1989: Back at the Coliseum, this time with stepdad Doobie as my date. Before we sat in nosebleed seats we consumed a fair amount of cocaine together. We arrived in time to hear Axl Rose blather on about Mr. Brownstone and quitting Guns N Roses. About the Stones all I remember is “2,000 Light Years From Home.”

1998: Dodger Stadium. I’d just moved back to Los Angeles from New York. I walked to the gig with my friend Paul, who lived down Sunset a bit in Echo Park. Show was unmemorable. Set – I think it was “Bridges to Babyon” themed – was tacky.

2002: Staples Center. My favorite Stones show, because somehow the gig seemed intimate inside the cavernous basketball arena. Carrie and I had seats just in front of the second stage on the floor and thus were able to see Jagger sweat up close. Lots of Exile stuff played, lots of old folks in the room. At 38, I felt like a veritable spring chicken amid the geezers.

2005: Hollywood Bowl. This fucking sucked. Rainy night. Bad seats, tiny little bodies doing their thing. As a concert goer, I try not to watch the giant video screens for the whole show, but in this case I had no choice.

So I’ve been to a handful of shows. I love the Stones, but I don’t get worked up with anticipation when they come to town. There’s something about the grittiness of the music crossed with the utter spectacle and crass commercial presentation that leaves me a little cold. Having said that, I attended their Dodger Stadium gig the night before Thanksgiving. Props to my pal Michael for hooking us up with some very nice seats. I wasn’t expecting much, but I found myself completely entranced. It was a gas, gas, gas. Here’s some thoughts:

Saw Stephen Stills waddle toward the backstage area. With a noticeable limp, tacky shirt by Tommy Bahama and a bloated body sculpted by David Crosby, Stills looks worn and broken. He must hate that the Stones have held up better than he. Bill Walton also turns up, hard to miss.

Thank god they don’t open with “Start Me Up.” That’s one song I don’t ever need to hear again in my lifetime (this list also included “Tumbling Dice”). Instead, they start with “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” another track that I don’t really need to hear again…. Why does Keith Richards dye his hair? Seems like a pussy thing to do for such a self-proclaimed badass…

It’s still weird seeing Mick holding a guitar. I realize that I’ve seen him do it since the Some Girls days, but it doesn’t make it right. Making matters worse, his strap has the band’s ubiquitous tongue logo. This is what I can’t stand about the Stones. It’s just not cool for a band to flog its own merch in such an obvious way…

“Dead Flowers” and “All Down the Line” were the obvious highlights. But a super bluesy “Midnight Rambler” took the cake. Amazine. Would have killed to have heard “Dandelion” or “Fool To Cry” or even “Emotional Rescue,” but such is life. “Under My Thumb” got a pseudo disco treatment, which was smokin’. I was fooled into thinking the song was “Miss You” until it kicked in…. Nothing from Some Girls tonight…. Wish they’d play something closer to the original arrangement of “Satisfaction.” If not, why not do the Devo version? …

At this point in their career, do they need the gazillion dollar stage and the fireworks and flames? Bet they can still charge top dollar if they peel away the props. And while they’re at it, they can try to be less predictable. By this time, Stones fans have to be forgiving. If they didn’t play “Honky Tonk Woman,” “Tumbling Dice” or even “Satisfaction,” I doubt many would be bummed out, particularly if they subbed “Loving Cup,” “Jigsaw Puzzle,” or even “Under Assistant West Coast Promo Man.”…

Keith usually bores me with his maudlin ballad crap from the post-Tattoo Youera, but I was fairly blown away by “You Got the Silver” and “Connection.” Bravo, Keef.

At the end I found myself tipping my hat to the geezers. No big surprises, but something washed over me. This is what they do. They’ll be doing it till they’re dead. And I don’t see any signs of them phoning it in. Despite the baggage that sours me on the Stones, they’ve got several bags of tunes that will never be touched, and that trumps all.