Upon Reflection

"She can ruin your face with her powerful thighs." With these words, Billy Joel delivered on his promise to destroy his song, "She's Always A Woman" once and for all for all of us. Much in the same way that, back in 1982, he had suggested an alternative title for "Honesty," and forever changed the way that I would listen to that tune, Billy proved that he could give as good as he could take, and he wasn't going to let Weird Al Yankovic beat him to the punch. It was nice of him to acknowledge the sillier side of writing songs that have, upon reflection, sounded more like Hallmark than Billboard.
That was just one of the takeaways from the evening I spent watching Billy and his piano pal Sir Elton John. As a concert-going experience, it was a pretty seamless production, with hit after hit delivered first by the Rocket Man, then an equally familiar set pounded out by Long Island's contribution to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. They played for more than three hours without an intermission, and while I had memories of their glory days to compare them to, neither one seemed content to go quietly into the good night.
Elton John was the first rock show I ever attended, way back on the "Captain Fantastic" tour. It was a huge deal for me. I took piano lessons. "Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding" had served as the soundtrack to my sixth grade film, "Drac Comes Back." I was a short, round kid with glasses. That guy up on the stage, pounding the ivories, was an international superstar threatening to blow the roof off the newly minted McNichols Sports Arena. Thirty-five years later, I remembered all those possibilities.
In the end, it just the two of them, trading verses on "Piano Man," as the crowd sang along. I was able to shrug off the cynicism that followed me into another basketball stadium. It was a great big Karaoke machine with twenty thousand of my closest friends. And try as I might, even with Mister Joel's help, I couldn't manage to sneer on the way out.