When a pair of Peter Frampton tickets fell into my lap the other day I thought, great, I loved Frampton in the 70s. Great seats too. Perfect. I honestly don't know what I was expecting. I didn't have enough time to give it a lot of thought, but I knew it would be hot to hear him sing "Baby I Love Your Way," while he wrapped his lips around that voice synthesizer thingy that he became known for long before Cher or Madonna got their hands on it. And to see him flip those blonde locks around and flash that sexy smile: Hot.Yeah, right. That was 1978.
When the man walked out on stage, I was in shock as was, I think, the entire audience. I am ashamed of my initial reaction quite frankly, and in retrospect I think I felt my own mortality closing in on my jugular, getting ready for the choke hold and a final twist. Well, it's 30 years later, and Frampton is 58 years old. He is fairly short, balding with remnants of white hair cropped above his ears, and wearing 80s-style stone-washed jeans and a rust-colored button down shirt, un-tucked with sleeves partially rolled up. I thought, Jesus, who the hell dressed him? Actually I didn't think it. I said it out loud, to which my companion said," God, Dean, everyone isn't Madonna!"
So he dives right in with SHOW ME THE WAY. O.K. Fine, but I still can't get passed this judgment that he looks like a lecherous old man trying to recapture his mid-life crisis—it's far too late to be recapturing his youth. Then comes another standard from his days of super stardom, and the audience begins to warm up. I am still a cold fish. He breaks, takes a sip of water, and initiates a conversation as if reading our expressions or perhaps it's a reaction he gets everywhere, so he has become comfortable addressing it. He says in the most charming of British accents (I am talking Anthony Hopkins-esque), "Were you expecting a good-looking tall blonde kid with a slightly dazed look in his eyes?" The audience let out a collective sigh followed by rabid applause. He had us at that moment. "You know, it has been 25 years people, have you looked at your selves in the mirror lately?" Ouch. That's not exactly what he said, he was too tactful for that, but it was definitely what he meant. We got the message loud and clear. Hot. Very hot.
So then he breaks into a long complicated and utterly impressive guitar solo, which is later accompanied by his incredible band. It soon became clear that Peter Frampton is a superstar and a musical genius. Santana has nothing on him. More charming dialogue ensues, and now I am in love with Peter Frampton and begin to wonder if he would date me. Oh, yeah, he's straight and besides he doesn't even know me. Then he segs into I'M IN YOU, and that's it—standing ovation, screaming freaks demanding MORE, MORE, MORE!!!
Did I mention that I am in love with Peter Frampton?
