Decided the best way to kickstart an unplanned retirement was to leave town that first week as a retiree - clear the mind, decompress, cleanse the mental palate with my favorite fun thing - that would be music. So, off to Vegas for a solo trip to catch a musical trifecta - Santana in concert, the Cirque's "Love" show featuring the music of the Fab Four, and reaching farther back into musical memory bank, capping this quick trip with Jersey Boys, the Tony-winning show telling the back story of the Four Seasons. Polished and well-staged. Fast-paced and somehow gets about 27 song snippets staged as the story moves from the streetlight singers in Newark to Valli as a solo artist.
When I think of the Four Seasons, I think of harmonies bookmarking a soaring falsetto, black and white tv, and junior high. It was the exact time I was starting to listen rabidly to tunes on my clock radio - a treasured transporter. It's odd to think the Four Seasons co-existed with the British invasion - somehow their sound takes me mentally back further to babysitters with short shorts and transistor radios attached to their ears as they walked down the street - the precursor to earbuds and ipods.
Frankie Valli, with a three octave range, is amazingly still kicking it in his seventies with new Seasons to back up his still-crystal falsetto. Guess as I ponder what's next, I'll take inspiration from an old pro who still tells me, "big girls don't cry." Move forward and follow the music.
