With draping curtains of skin, peppered with twisted wrinkles and multiple scars, hanging from an extended arm thrust forward to symbolize the gesture for RIGHT ON, the concert goer was ecstatic. Here was an elderly gentleman encrusted with decades of wear and tear on his earthly vehicle (body). His old favorite band from when he was a teenager had got together to do a 10-city tour. Gone are 4 of the 5 original group members who have succumbed to various ailments brought on by a lifetime of hard drugs, chain smoking, drinking, and dangerous emotional connections to jealous women. Their replacements are 20 to 30-years-olds with more musical skills than their predecessors, but through no fault of their own, were born too late to enter the music scene during the destructive era. New contracts demand sobriety. The last member has drawn a full house in a theater that seats 1,500 hard core fans, but in their prime, small stadiums stocked to the stars with screaming supporters were standard equipment. His dynamic, dancing display has been replaced with a short shuffle to the stage center, where he uses the heavy mike stand to support his battered body. He is allowed to keep his vocals to a minimum for fear of rupturing his vocal cords and assists the band’s powerful, pulsating instrumentals with a tambourine that was left on the stool he now sits on. Bald heads in the audience reflect the stage lights, and the gray and silver hair induce a calm feeling of a storm that has passed. Smiles reflect now perfect teeth, compliments of dentures and implants. A low rumble is heard between songs that induces no reaction from the patrons. Gone are the snickers and laughter that used to arise from the sound of a fart. Flatulence is now a normal background sound. Joints snapping, low pitched groaning, and coughing fills the venue during intermission as the lead singer slips off for some oxygen therapy. When he returns, the drummer awakens the sleeping audience.