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An Unlikely Juxtaposition: A Tribute

Phil, so weak and decrepit that he had to perform (admirably enough) from a chair

VS

Andrea, his voice still powerful and his posture almost impossibly impeccable.

Rock, ranging from pop to progressive

VS

Opera, classical, jazz, pop, and more, all sung in multiple languages and accompanied by a full orchestra.

Die-hard fans, raucous though aging, from all backgrounds

VS

Impressed Spectators, primarily from the upper crust of society.

This has been one of the busiest and most interesting weeks of my life, and it was highlighted by an unlikely juxtaposition.

I had the unique (for someone like me anyway) opportunity to attend two concerts at Rocket Mortgage Fieldhouse (a large venue in Cleveland) in the same week.  On Tuesday night it was my all-time favorite band, Genesis, followed on Thursday night by world-renowned tenor, Andrea Bocelli.  A strange confluence of events led to this opportunity.  Seeing Genesis live has long been atop my musical bucket list, so I purchased nosebleed tickets as soon as they were available, but the Bocelli show came as a surprise, a family member having purchased tickets and being unable to attend.  Incidentally, by a strange twist of fate, I was actually gifted much better seats for Genesis the day before the show, so I ended up with four free concert tickets to two amazing shows in less than a week.

As many similarities as these shows shared (same venue, same week, even the same starting time), experiencing both was definitely a clash of worlds.  I would wager to say that I was probably the only person, employees excepted, who attended both shows.  This past week certainly impressed upon me the importance of embracing a diversity of music. 

This week was also one of the most surreal of my life.  These shows, individually and collectively, served to remind me of my late father.  I found myself in a haze of nostalgia throughout most of both concerts.  It was, after all, my father who introduced me to both Genesis and Bocelli.  As I listened to Genesis perform Invisible Touch, I could hear Dad screeching along.  As Andrea Bocelli belted out the the iconic final note of Time to Say Goodbye, I could see Dad counting the seconds on his hands, as he always did.    

It's funny, really.  Dad loved Bocelli, but he would never have braved the large crowds or the downtown traffic to see him live.  As kids we would groan when Dad would pop in his beloved VHS tape on which he had recorded a Bocelli PBS special, but here I was, along with one of my sisters, braving the large crowds and downtown traffic to see Bocelli live.  We were there, however, not simply for the nostalgia, but for the beautiful, powerful music.  As I reflect on my childhood, I am thankful that my father passed along a love for music, from Genesis all the way to Bocelli.




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