Rip's Excellent Rock and Roll Adventure

My husband has an entire wall of sheet music surrounding his piano in our music room, a massive collection of classical, opera, standards, and show tunes. None of it, however, is rock and roll.

The closest my husband has gotten to a rock concert since we’ve been together was when he agreed to attend a ballet set to Bruce Springsteen music with me, and Joe Grushecky played during intermission. On the other hand, I VERY much like (that old time) rock and roll, particularly American rockers with folk influences, like Springsteen, John Mellencamp, and R.E.M.  I have been to a few –maybe 50 or so – rock concerts in my day.

When we went to Cleveland on vacation, we had to see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. My husband would a first-time visitor, but I had been there before. I knew it was a magical fun place, like Disney World, so I was optimistic that he would enjoy it. After all, I once attended a performance of Ariadne auf Naxos, an obscure and painful German opera for him, and I….. well, okay, “enjoy” would be a strong word, but I survived.

The first thing I did when we got there was make my husband pose for a picture in front of the building so I could prove to people that he was actually there. He panicked for a moment in line when he realized that he left his earplugs back at the bed and breakfast, but I assured him that he wouldn’t really need them – it wasn’t like an actual rock concert inside.

We started with the introductory History of Rock and Roll film and had a fine time exploring all the exhibits and paraphernalia from the featured musicians. Rock fan or not, you just have to appreciate some of this stuff – like the jacket Michael Jackson wore in his Thriller video. I mean, how cool is that? And I learned new things while I was there. I found out that country singer and American Idol winner Carrie Underwood is actually a rock artist when we visited the brand-new “Women Who Rock” exhibit.

I realized that my husband was getting into it when we entered a theater where they were showing clips of performances from the telecasts of Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremonies. When we entered, Aretha Franklin and Annie Lennox (two of my favorites) were just finishing up a duet of Chain of Fools.  Annie was writhing and gyrating all over the stage while Aretha was looking at her like she was some kind of damn fool. I imagined that Aretha was thinking, “Child, I don’t have to work that hard, not with my voice.”

Then Metallica came on. Heavy metal is not my thing. I got up to leave. “Where are you going?” asked my husband.

“Do you really want to listen to heavy metal?” I asked.

“Right now, it’s less painful than my feet,” he said.

When the first song was done, I was again ready to leave, but then Lou Reed joined the band onstage. “Do you mind if we stay for this?” I asked.

“Why would I mind?” he asked.

“Well, because it’s Megadeath,” I explained.

“It’s Metallica,” he corrected.

“Whatever, they’re all the same,” I muttered.

“Oh, listen to you, being dismissive,” he said, with a smile.

When Ozzy Osbourne joined Metallica, or whoever they were, we were both ready to go.

We continued on our merry way. Suddenly my husband was talking like a convert. He didn’t want to miss anything in the place. It wasn’t the music itself he didn’t like, you see, it was just the volume and the crowds that put him off. He was pretty excited about the gift shop, where he passed on the t-shirt that read, “If it’s too loud, you’re too old,” opting instead for a (pardon the pun) rockin’ Rock and Roll Hall of Fame mug.

I’m glad he liked it, but I sure hope he doesn’t want to see Metallica the next time they come to Pittsburgh.