I’m a sap.

I’ve never owned a black leather jacket, never a skinny tie, I’m nothing if not unfashionable.

But I’m human.

What does it mean to be human?

Anxious. Wondering if this or that is gonna work out.

Lonely. Wanting to connect, but not knowing how to bridge the gap.

Self-conscious. Worried if people are going to laugh at you.

I know what’s hip, and sometimes my taste squares with that, but if a song touches me…I don’t care where it came from.

Which means I don’t care what you think of me or my taste.

But that would be completely untrue.

But at home I play that which reaches me, like Luke Bryan’s “Play It Again.”

I know, this territory has been covered before, even better, by Taylor Swift with “Our Song.”

But this is just a little bit different, it’s a little less country and a little less adolescent.

She was sittin’ all alone over on the tailgate
Tan legs swingin’ by a Georgia plate
I was lookin’ for her boyfriend
Thinkin’, no way she ain’t got one

It’s easier when you’re older, you just look for the ring.

But when you’re an adolescent, an early twentysomething, everyone’s available.

Or are they?

Listen to Neil Strauss and you can embrace false confidence and employ the neg, trying to trick the women into paying attention by putting them down.

But I’ve been put down so much I’m never gonna employ this technique, furthermore I fantasize that if she just saw my true insides, she’d like me.

But still you have to make your move.

Despite the guy who hits on everybody, giving men a bad reputation, most of us are too afraid of rejection. You’re already out of our league, now you’re gonna kick us back to the minors?

Soon as I sat down I was fallin’ in love

The magic is in the change. But still there’s that moment when you’re talking to someone and you’re beginning to fall. You’re just being yourself, and she’s just being herself, and it works. Your self-consciousness fades away, you feel accepted, you don’t want the moment to end.

But in the song it does…

Talkin’ over the speakers in the back of that truck
She jumped up and cut me off

What’s going on? Everything was going so well and suddenly she’s jumping the tracks!

She was like, oh my God, this is my song
I’ve been listening to the radio all night long
Sittin’ ’round waitin’ for it to come on and here it is

Passion, that’s what attracts us. Conventional wisdom is it’s attractiveness. But that’s untrue, if we see the spark of life in you we’re completely sold, we’re undone.

She was like, come here boy, I wanna dance
‘Fore I said a word, she was takin’ my hand
Spinnin’ me around ’til it faded out
And she gave me a kiss
And she said, play it again, play it again, play it again
And I said, play it again, play it again, play it again

We males are bad at leading. We’re good on the ball field, amongst our buddies, but put us in front of women and we’re completely clueless, any guy can see it, the guy is talking but he’s faking it, he’s just waiting for the moment when the woman takes over.

And when you lead us beyond our comfort zone there’s nothing we like more. I’m not much of a dancer, but in the above situation I’ve got no doubt I’d be doing a two-step. And hoping the song never ended!

I’d ‘a gave that DJ my last dime
If he would have played it just one more time

Money isn’t everything.
Of course the construct of the song is suspect, it’s no longer the twentieth century, no one waits for the song to come on the radio. Still, we get it.

But a little while later
We were sittin’ in the drive in my truck
Before I walked her to the door
I was scannin’ like a fool, AM, FM, XM too

Little things make a difference, the XM reference makes me swoon. But there’s also evidence of desperation, and we males are nothing if not desperate. Pushing the buttons, scanning for a return to nirvana.

But I stopped real quick when I heard that groove
Man, you should have seen her light up

It’s the little things that matter, those are the situations you remember. Sure, graduating from college is a big deal, as is passing the Bar and getting married, but what truly makes our heart beat is when small things work out and the game continues, and our good feelings persist. Talk to any guy, he can remember these moments, especially the one where your eyes light up and focus upon him, giving him the green light he’s looking for.

And sure, everybody wants to get laid, but this is not what I’m talking about.

Pricks keep score and boast about it.

Real men are looking to melt. And it only happens a few times in a lifetime.

And if you’ve got your motorcycle jacket, if you wear your sunglasses at night, if you think punk is the best music ever made, you’re never gonna get “Play It Again.”

But most of the girls will. Because they’re optimistic and romantic. And they’re in control. They’re just waiting for that special someone to approach them so they can say yes.

And really the reason I like “Play It Again” has little to do with the lyrics.

It’s the sound.

That acoustic guitar intro and then the crystal clear strumming, setting the mood.

And the aforementioned change.

And the singable chorus.

So what I’ve done here is prove that I’m not cool.

But cool is for New York. For Angelenos who hit the clubs and the restaurants.

But me, I’m a human being, a dreamer. As old as I am I still fantasize my life will work out like a fairy tale. And when I hear “Play It Again” I believe it just might.

Play It Again – Spotify

Play It Again – YouTube-official video

Play It Again – YouTube-lyric video

P.S. Standing in the California desert I didn’t quite get it. But Luke Bryan’s performance of “Do I” had me surfing Spotify, checking out his tracks, as soon as I got home. And I discovered “Play It Again” and so much more. And now I feel I missed my opportunity, I can’t wait to see him again, so I can stand and sing along at the top of my lungs, amongst my brethren, all the women standing there dreaming life might just work out.

Can’t understand how you can be on TV but no one can see you. Having grown up with three channels, baby boomers can’t fathom five hundred. Gene Simmons trumpets the run of his “Family Jewels” show and it’s not even a footnote, to quote the Eagles, it’s already gone, and to quote Blondie, it certainly is not fading away and radiating.

Can’t understand why what was important to them is unimportant to their children, like Blondie.

Lament the fact that their favorite artists don’t put out new music but when it’s released they don’t want to buy it or stream it, and if it’s played in concert, they go to the bathroom.

Can’t understand why anybody would want to stay to the end of anything, because of the TRAFFIC!

Have all the latest gadgets but barely know how to use them.

Were brought up by hands-off parents and have counterbalanced this with being incredibly hands-on themselves. As if they don’t talk or text with their children multiple times a day, and their kids don’t check in with them to demonstrate they’ve arrived, they’ll wander off into the universe and die. We made it without our elders, why wouldn’t our children be able to make it without us?

Can’t square looking good with feeling bad. All the hogwash about fifty being the new thirty and sixty being the new forty has convinced them that they’re breaking the laws of science, but the truth is people break down, everybody does, and then they die.

Think their children are entitled, when the truth is every baby boomer alive believed they were entitled.

Can’t understand why anybody would want to stand at a concert. Ooh, my aching bones!

Want to do Netflix marathons but still want to be anti TV.

Still believe music can change the world, even though this hasn’t been the case since 1969 and the younger generations have no memory of this.

Want to drive foreign cars while their children are open to American ones, didn’t their progeny get the message, that Japanese automobiles don’t break and German ones have status?

Believed in acceptance during “Woodstock” and now won’t even accept themselves, they’re running for facelifts and Botox and want nothing to do with anybody of a lower social status.

Remember when the country was dominated by the middle class and can’t understand income inequality, it’s boomers this issue appeals to.

Were into the Great Society but now don’t want to pay tax, especially if the benefits don’t flow to them.

Couldn’t wait to get their drivers’ licenses but their kids can be in their twenties without them.

Believed boilable vegetable bags by Green Giant were the future only to find out fresh and local was.

Love vinyl, but sold all of theirs during the CD revolution.

Saw Florida as a geriatric graveyard and now can’t wait to move there.

Remember when Manhattan was the epicenter of the arts, before it became the epicenter of money.

Thought college was where you grew up and learned something as opposed to overpaying for an entry ticket to a job.

Can’t understand why you can’t get a good ticket. When you lined up in the morning, tickets were good. When you sit in your underwear at 10 AM clicking on Ticketmaster, you’re lucky to get a ticket at all.

Think because they’re old they can’t get STDs, but they’re growing amongst the aged.

Believe erectile dysfunction doesn’t apply to them.

Won’t talk about vaginal dryness.

The women are thinner than they were in school, the men are heavier.

Can no longer recognize the people in “People.”

Still believe in government, and that their voice and vote counts.

Remember when Manhattan was dangerous.

Remember TV shows that you can look up in Wikipedia, but you can’t see anywhere.

Can remember when almost nobody had flown in an airplane, as opposed to flying on a whim.

Are cheap. They’re the ones carrying their bags on board as opposed to paying to fly them underneath.

Realize opportunity has slipped through their fingers. But are still dreamers nonetheless, as if it’s only a matter of time before their fairy godmother descends from the heavens and gives them everything they want.

Lament they didn’t go to school during the hook-up era. Free love was nothing like this.

Know you can freeze your eggs, but having children after forty is strenuous.

Know that you work ever harder for less money.

Remember when companies were loyal.

Won’t wear hearing aids and glasses because of vanity, it’s going to be hard to communicate with them in the future.

Go to the movies to get out of the house as opposed to having something they need to see, otherwise Saturday night would look like the rest of the week, endless television.

Were fed by their mothers every night growing up, but have now become accustomed to takeout.

Can Google for basic information, but can’t go deep. A baby boomer has no idea their whole life is online, even if they’ve got an unlisted phone number.

Don’t need the best, but their children do.

Want to own, not rent, whether it be a house or music.

Remember when you didn’t buy a car with electric windows because they were gonna break, now tech never breaks.

Remember when you fixed stuff, now you just throw it out and buy a new one.

Want manufacturing to come back to the U.S., but still want cheap electronics.

Can’t understand hip-hop, never could.

Are all about designer logos even though they abhorred them when young.

Laughed at people with hairpieces but are now getting toupees.

Think the young are clueless, even though when they were growing up, they believed they knew everything.

IT’S LIVE

The bifurcation occurred twenty five years ago, with Milli Vanilli. That duo may have been busted, but since then it’s been de rigueur, totally accepted to utilize tapes/hard drives in concert. In pop it’s about the show, and a show is all about production, not music. And whether you like what’s coming out of the speakers or not, in country it’s all about the music. I heard bad notes and missed notes and faulty vocals and I couldn’t help but realize the result was HUMAN!

Yes, while we all grasp electronic devices we’re still just flesh and blood, and it’s hard to relate to that which is inert, which so much pop music is. Fans love country because it reminds them of life. Themselves and their adventures. It’s imperfect, but that’s what you get.

In other words, you can go to Hollywood and get plastic surgery but that’s not gonna mean much in country, where the most important thing is not your two-dimensional image, but your three-dimensional songs.

ASLEEP AT THE WHEEL

Possibly the tightest band I’ve seen this year.

Once upon a time it was about performance, not dancing. And Ray Benson knows this. The only problem Ray’s got is when he had his chance, he did not deliver a hit. And that’s the music business, in all genres, when the machine is behind you, when someone’s paying you to make records, when they’ve got a radio promotion staff itching for hits…DELIVER THEM!

When you sign a deal is not when you should explore your creativity. That’s for YouTube, that’s for your Internet-only album (although soon all albums will be such). Don’t blow your one big chance, it’s probably the only one you’re gonna get.

FLORIDA GEORGIA LINE 1

Just one step away from pop. You might think country is twangy, and many lament it no longer is, but the Nash Vegas acts have raps and so many of the Top Forty elements.

BEST T-SHIRT

“Stagecoach is Coachella with SONGS!”

FLORIDA GEORGIA LINE 2

The vocal imperfections were rampant, but isn’t that what live music is supposed to be, different from the record? The duo emanated tons of energy, they were doing their best to have a good time and incite one.

In other words, you can lip-synch to or even sing along with your track at the club, but all you’re getting is exposure, which is why the country acts last and the pop acts don’t. Sure, the single matters, but even more important is that you have an identity.

I’m still not sure who Katy Perry is, even though she’s had a ton of hits.

Same deal with Rihanna.

They’re plastered all over the Internet, the faux news organizations trumpeting their shenanigans, but there’s nothing behind the facade.

Whereas country fans truly believe they know their favorite acts.

THIS IS HOW WE ROLL

With Luke Bryan. A number one hit that those not in the scene will instantly deplore.

But put yourself in the shoes of the audience…

You’re going to college, classes boring your ass off, killing a few years before you hit drudgery, and then it comes to the weekend.

America is all about pecking order. If you’re not in “People” or on TMZ you don’t count. Only this is not true, your life is just as important as that of the star, you’ve both got to fill 24/7. And stars are lonelier than the hoi polloi. The hoi polloi have got their buds, who they laugh and get tanked up with and sing…stuff like this.

Because when you’re driving down the highway with the top down and the radio blasting you gain camaraderie by singing along to anthems that describe your existence, like this.

CRUISE

Ditto.

This is the track that broke Florida Georgia Line, that got them their deal.

Criticize it as lowest common denominator, but admit it’s a hit.

You’re looking for your chance? Deliver something that the powers-that-be can work with.

LUKE BRYAN

Went to college. As did Kenny Chesney and Eric Church and even the Florida Georgia Line boys.

And he’s 37.

Notice the difference?

In pop the acts are ever younger, wet behind the ears and sans experience.

If you’re in your thirties your pop career has got no chance, in country you’re just beginning.

LUKE BRYAN’S BAND

Whoa, can they play.

People e-mail me all day long complaining about no-talents populating the chart. But most of them could never get a gig with Bryan or the rest of the country superstars. You’re astounded at the musicianship.

LUKE AND THE GROCERY STORE

He needed provisions to barbecue, he went.

Pop stars don’t shop for food, hell, they don’t even EAT, you’re judged by your skinniness, and they’ve all got bodyguards and don’t function like normal people, but the country acts do.

Trust was palpable at Stagecoach.

After the sun goes down, it’s very dark. If you get stabbed good luck surviving. But that’s not the vibe, there’s no danger, because the truth is we’re all in it together, and the country acts realize this.

DO I

Baby what are we becoming
It feels just like we’re always running
Rolling through the motions every day

Up to this point Luke had been rocking, before you slow it down you’ve got to grab them by the throat and make them pay attention.

But when he slowed it down…

You’ve got to understand, you’re out there with 70,000 other people, in the middle of nowhere, cell service is spotty because of the overload, you’re disconnected in a way you never are, and when the song wafts over the assembled multitude the magic seizes your insides and melts them.

Come on. Life is fraught with so many left turns and disappointments, about the only thing we can count on is music.

Which is why we go.

And when done right it unhooks us from the b.s., sets us free to be our better selves.

Do I turn you on at all when I kiss you baby
Does the sight of me wanting you drive me crazy
Do I have your love, am I still enough
Tell me don’t I or tell me do I baby

This music thing is funny. I’m inundated with the musings of the believers, but when I listen to what they’re foaming at the mouth about it doesn’t resonate.

I remember when it used to be different. When I lived for the music.

But that was back when we were addicted to Cousin Brucie and Murray the K and then free-form FM and MTV, they drove the culture, music doesn’t drive the culture today.

And then you go to Stagecoach and you realize for these fans it’s not casual, it’s all consuming, it’s so important. And when the music plays you can comprehend it, you don’t need a decoder ring, and it’s not about being hip, there’s no self-consciousness involved, you just dedicate yourself to it.

Which is what I did.

And I’m telling you now, and I’m not Freddie but I’m certainly a dreamer, I was stunned how little response I got to my Stagecoach blogs, proving that my audience doesn’t know and doesn’t want to, if I said the same things about Coachella they’d be overloading me.

And I don’t understand this, how a mass of people can dismiss a sound and its fans so easily.

But I guess that’s America. Where we’re no longer in it together, where you’re so busy getting ahead that you don’t care about me.

But that’s not the way it is in country music.

Say it’s not what it used to be, berate it all you want, but know that in country everybody’s in it together, the acts and the audience. Nothing’s evanescent, everybody’s in it for the long haul.

And when you stand there in the California desert, with the wind blowing back your hair and the palm trees swaying as the sound floats over the landscape you tell yourself there’s nowhere you’d rather be.

You come home and play the songs you heard for the very first time.

You go to Wikipedia to learn more about the acts.

You let your mind drift and realize what you want to do most is go back and repeat the experience.

And I wanna sleep with you in the desert tonight
With a billion stars all around

That’s when the polo grounds come alive, after dark, when the palm trees are swaying, the mountains are still discernible and the sky is covered with stars.

I didn’t understand Palm Springs. Hell, I didn’t even know there was desert in California, I thought it only existed in Africa!

And I never got it until a couple of years back, when my mother was spending the month there and I got up on a February morning and it was brisk and clear and invigorating. I thought Palm Springs was for oldsters…maybe I’m an oldster now.

I guess that’s part of the Coachella/Stagecoach experience, hanging at the house before you venture over to the gig. And while we were sitting at the table, Lisa implored us to go for a date shake.

I think it’s a Palm Springs thing. I’ve never had one anywhere else. Actually, I’ve only had one one time before, out by the freeway, twenty five years ago, and it was tasty, but not memorable.

Unlike the one at Shields.

You know those movies about Florida, where the paint has faded on the buildings and they don’t look like they’ve been touched since the fifties?

That’s what Shields is like.

Lisa, Felice and Claudia spotted it on the way back Friday night.

We detoured there on Saturday.

I wanted to see the movie. I’m a sucker for films and museums.

Yup, at the end of the building they feature a fifteen minute flick “Romance and Sex Life of the Date” in a permanent auditorium and those in attendance looked like this would be the highlight of their day, I was wet behind the ears compared to them, and Jay peeked in too, but we had to go, there was not time for nostalgia.

And by time I strolled back to the cafe through the date-themed novelty items the shakes had already been served, we were ready to go, BUT I WANTED MY OWN!

Felice said one was enough.

One is never enough. I’m about ready to go back to the desert to imbibe again.

$4.75 seems extreme. But the cup was huge. And what was inside was…

Thicker then the shake at In-N-Out. Not plasticky like the one at McDonald’s. You sucked hard and the elixir of life came up through the red straw.

It tasted like dates not at all, and I like dates!

It was smooth, ice-creamy and just a tad gritty. I kept sucking and sucking, to quote Depeche Mode, I just couldn’t get enough.

So the next time you’re venturing to Coachella, for the iconic festival or Stagecoach, be sure to make a detour to Shields.

Because life is not about acquisitions, but momentary experiences, the kind you can recall decades later, the taste on your tongue, the feeling down your throat… We live in a foodie era, but some of the best things in life have been around forever. Partake…

Shields Date Garden

Shields Date Garden – Shake Counter