Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

Clapton

Saturday, as the starting time of the concert was approaching, the pages of the map in my brain must have been stuck together because I had no clear idea about how to get to Blossom Music Center, which is out in the middle of nowhere, between Akron and Cleveland and Trenton, New Jersey, and Indianapolis -- somewhere in there. A neighbor once called me to find out if he was getting close to the place. "Where are you now?" I asked. "There's a signpost up ahead. Erie, next 5 exits," he said. "You're going to be late," I pointed out. I knew how he felt.

But I was in the general vicinity; and then, as if by magic, the map in my head opened and revealed that Peninsula is east of Richfield and that the road, for which I was looking, was a couple miles farther up 303. Peninsula was the stopping place for the night when navigating the Ohio Canal between Cleveland and Akron back in the 1800's, a couple years before I was born. It took a lot longer to navigate the distance from Peninsula to the parking lots at Blossom Music Center, waiting in traffic on the one-lane road winding through the Cuyahoga Valley National Park, than from Cleveland to Peninsula.

Robert Randolph opened. The Jackal had seen RR and the Family Band at a small venue in Cleveland a couple years ago and thought the group was fantastic. There was no disappointment at the large, outdoor Blossom Music Center, which is the summer home of the Cleveland Orchestra; and the late-comers missed an act that was, alone, worth the price of admission. Jackal said that the group had toned down their act for the "older Clapton crowd" (or did he say "old Clapton crowd?"); but the group was energetic and tight nonetheless. Robert Randolph and the Family Band will be back at Blossom in August, and I plan to take in the show.

During the intermission, on the large video screens to the left and right of the stage, the management advertised coming attractions and permitted patrons to send text messages to the screen. There were stupid messages, like "ROCKKKKKKKK," and "I LOOOOOOOOVE THEIR FIRST ALBUM!!" and "Hi A;" so, Stacey sent the message, "I LIKE TURTLES." Apparently, the guy in the control booth didn't appreciate that comment because it was not posted during the intermission, which caused Stacey to become irritated. She sent, "You put up stupid stuff like 'ROCKKKKKKK,' but nothing esoteric?" to which she received no reply. After a couple other insults, she tried to be sweet, "What r u wearing?" and "Do u have a girlfriend?" to no avail.

Eric Clapton and his band took the stage. You can find the set list on some other site. "Key To the Highway," "Hoochie Coochie Man," and "Little Wing" set the tone early. And I thought that "Running on Faith" was very well done, with E.C. on acoustic. The crowd raised the roof during "Layla" and "Cocaine." For the encore, Robert Randolph joined the band for a very energetic "I've Got My Mojo Working."

The night would have been perfect, but for the several people in the V.I.P. seating who thought that they were the only people at the concert, staggering down the aisleway in front of us to the restrooms after summoning the waiter for their drink orders about 20 times. Our seats were center stage about 20 rows back.

One guy, who sat at the end of the row, instead of standing up (the pavilion seat rows are actually quite wide) and allowing someone to pass, moved out into the aisle to allow people to get to the aisle, standing directly in front of me each time. Worse, he looked as if he hadn't showered, his hair all greasy and gnarly, which made me gag. I yelled at him only twice. I was nice. I didn't throw anything at him. I didn't choke him.

Although I'm whining about the guy, he was a minor distraction. Clapton was great.

Posted by Bill at June 2, 2008 08:00 PM