I grew up in Columbus, OH. There were never many good places to see live music in the 80’s, or the 90’s for that matter. At least not places I was allowed to visit. Most of the “good” places were bars or nightclubs. Any bands that came to Columbus in this era were usually Metal Bands.
So what’s a white girl from Upper Arlington to do? Go see Metal Shows. Until her ears bleed.
My first concert was Def Leppard in 1982 or 1983. I was escorted by 2 chaperones, because you know, you can never be too safe. My cousin, her best friend Mary and I hauled down to Vets Memorial Auditorium. We were driving a car that belonged to Mary’s Mom. It was a Mom Car. I’m pretty sure we were horrified to be driving a Mom Car to a metal show. We also should have been embarassed to be wearing prissy flats, pearl chokers, linen blouses and pedal pushers but we wouldn’t realize that irony until much, much later.
We had great seats. 6th row center, or something crazy like that. Everyone but us had great huge 80’s hair. Everyone seemed to be inebriated or maybe even high. We weren’t.
We loved the show. We loved the music. We loved the lights. We loved the weird people.
During the encore, Rick Allen threw a drum stick right at my face. Right at my face! And I ducked. I missed the drum stick.
I missed a Golden Metal Opportunity. I missed the Rick Allen I-still-have-two-arms-drumstick.