Sudetenland Tales by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Sudetenland Tales

Page 54

Old Age Home Rock Shows

“Born to Nap” – A Rock Odyssey from the Geriatric Pit

The codgers shuffled into the hall on the fringe of Weequahic, Sudetemland around 4 PM; early bird entry, armed with fiber supplements, orthopedic seat cushions, and exactly zero tolerance for seizure inducing flashing lights. The first of the “Classics” series of concerts was about to kick off. They had waited what seemed like scores of enemas for this moment. Well, not “waited,” exactly; as waiting could be quite messy. We sort of forgot it was happening for a few decades already, until the nurse reminded us during pudding hour.

The eldest codgers settled into the front row; VIPs due to their combined hearing aid wattage, and woke from their nap just when they set off all the fireworks as Bruce Springsteen tried to once again, more or less, explode onto the stage in a blaze of gray glory. He lifted his mic triumphantly, and screamed "Let’s rock!" He took two ambitious steps forward, then took his cue from an old copyrighted Biden flop, promptly tripped over an amp cord, and face planted on the wood floor. A good look at his face when it again appeared, showed that it didn’t look anything at all like the “Born to Run” Springsteen, rather more like