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just pathetic

The Red Sox are out on the road, so Fenway Park is free for other uses; and the use to which it is being put this eveing is, we find, a Rolling Stones concert. Now I don't know too much about the Rolling Stones, and I confess I haven't heard any of the music that made them so famous in their heyday (that 'Satisfaction' excepted, of course); but I do know that they are, now, what you could describe as past their prime. I saw Mick and Keith on the tv the other day and they looked like nothing more than those egyptian mummies, when you take em out of their sarcophogi and unwrap em and all. Kind of baggy and leathery, if you know what I mean. I guess too much exposure to the sun can take it's toll; that, and all the heroin.

Worse than that, though--since plenty of old people look leathery these days, especially in Florida--is the clothes. Now, the best (or at least the most charitable) way to describe the Stones in these days would be 'elder statesmen of rock and roll'; I have to say, guys, that the classic rocker garb of your youth is no longer particularly becoming or even, um, palatable. Silk though the rags around their heads may be, they still appear ill on those 97-year-old visages. And I'm all for people continuing to play music into advanced age--so much the better, indeed, even in those musicians who disdain anything with the slightest appearance of artistic growth and development--but lose the sixties outfits, please. The rest of us are in the twenty-first century now: it's just you who're in your sixties. And it's not a good look.

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