The place erupts with cheers and screams...

December 7th, 3:20 Friday afternoon, driving ever so slowly down Route 93/128/95 headed towards Stamford Connecticut, usually about a 3 hour ride. Today it's taking much longer and I'm feeling anxious. We have to be in NY by 10:30. The weather is not cooperating; the traffic is not cooperating; there's a Fung Wa bus being towed and we're stuck in various traffic jams from Boston to Providence to just outside where we will hop on a train into Manhattan. Five hours later, we're finally headed into the city. I'm so excited I can't stand it. I'm also so tired I can't stand it. I'm usually in bed between 8 & 9...no, I'm not kidding....and it's now past my bedtime but barring any kind of freak happenstance, we'll make BB King's Club by show time.

There's a guy sitting across from us drinking a beer on the train; as a matter of fact, there are a lot of people quietly sipping their beer as they make their way to wherever their evening will end up. We pull into Grand Central Station with enough time to grab a sausage sandwich from a street vendor. Wooo hoooo! We're in New York. We walk and eat and talk and look at all the unfamiliar sights of the city and it's not that cold out but still I wish I'd worn my hat; had I known I'd be standing in line for at least 45 minutes I wouldn't have carelessly flung it on my back seat..Don’t ya love hindsight?

So, there we are, about 200 of us, lined up on 42nd street, waiting for the doors to open for the 10:30 show. The first show is letting out. Passing comments by patrons who have seen the early show range from "he was great" to "hope he shows up" to "you wasted your money" to "he's still got it". Well, which is it?

When are they gonna let us in? Will I be able to stay awake for this long awaited show? Will my feet ever thaw out? We're moving forward...slowly...eventually the club is in sight and there it is on the marquis; the reason for this ridiculous journey when it would probably have been better if I'd kept my ass in Boston, gone to bed early so I could do some sort of holiday activity that I'll be rushing around to accomplish before THE DAY....there it is: SLY & FAMILY STONE. And we're going in the building. I've been here before to see Chuck Berry...very fun. I guess we were closer than I thought because I can walk right up front. I park myself in front of the keyboards and that's where I will be for the next two hours. My feet hurt, I'm so tired I'm delirious but I'm here to see Sly & the Family Stone.

It's an interesting mix of people waiting for the show to start and after what seems like an eternity, out walks a thin, Mohawk touting, gangster dressed SLY STONE. The place erupts with cheers and screams. He begins to tell the story of how it came to be that this band of gypsies re-united and came to New York after a 33 year absence. The crowd doesn't want to hear him talk; they want to hear him sing. He invites the band to come out and take their places with their respective instruments and ever so gently launches into "sing a simple song"...everyone's screaming and raising their hands and dancing and the band segue's into "if you want me to stay" which I had COMPLETELY forgotten was one of their songs!!!! And it was about that time that I lost my mind.....the band was funky and hot and Sly's still got it....he sounded great. The rest of the show was good but in those first two songs I realized I missed seeing an incredible band growing up. So, was it worth the six hour trip, the two hour wait and staying up WAY past my bedtime? You bet it was. Would I do it again? Yes. But this time I'd wear my hat.