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130 pages
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Description

Can there be anything more uplifting than a great rock concert?A concert where words like brilliant, fantastic, superb, amazing and incredible can never do it justice. They don't even come close.If you are blessed to have seen that one special gig that actually changed your life, a gig that you wished had never come to an end, then maybe, just maybe, you've been in the presence of greatness.A night to remember that will never fade from your memory, however long you live. It's as fresh today as it was all those years ago. It was a rock and roll epiphany.

Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 30 novembre 2022
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781398442351
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 3 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0175€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

P rove I t A ll N ight
S tephen B . C harles
A ustin M acauley P ublishers
2022-11-30
Prove It All Night About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Intro Chapter One The Motors Chapter Two The Clash Chapter Three Bob Marley and the Wailers Chapter Four David Bowie Chapter Five Doctor Feelgood Chapter Six The Jam Chapter Seven Alberto Y Lost Trios Paranoias and The Police Chapter Eight The Who Chapter Nine Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band Chapter Ten The Rolling Stones Encore
About the Author
Stephen grew up beside the seaside in Lancashire, England, with his younger sister and three older brothers, where their parents ran a family guest house and he attended the local grammar school.
When not working as an IT contractor in Central London, he enjoys playing the piano, the guitar and the drums, writing songs, playing Bridge, learning Italian, listening to music, travelling, gardening, bird watching and jogging.
His ambition is to cruise around the world writing best-selling novels, inspired by the fascinating and amusing people he meets along the way.
Dedication
To the fans and the musicians who share the same dream, breathe the same air, and for two or three hours, escape to a better place.
Copyright Information ©
Stephen B. Charles 2022
The right of Stephen B. Charles to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
The story, the experiences, and the words are the author’s alone.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781398437173 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781398442351 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published 2022
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd ®
1 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5AA
Intro
Elvis Presley was, and is, my all-time hero. In 1991, my girlfriend and I travelled to the USA on holiday. It was different to the regular ones we took as it was split into two mini holidays within the same country. The first part was spent on the West Coast sightseeing in California and the second we spent travelling through the States of the Deep South.
Having landed in San Francisco, we hired a maroon Buick Regal at the airport and over the next seven days drove around 500 miles from San Francisco to San Diego, mainly along Pacific Highway One. Our route took us through some beautiful towns with breath-taking scenery including Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, San Simeon, San Luis Obispo, Santa Barbara, Ventura, Santa Monica and Long Beach before finally arriving in San Diego.
In San Francisco, it was a thrill to zig-zag the car down Lombard Street (the crookedest street in the world made up of eight steep hairpin turns), then to drive across the Golden Gate Bridge to the Muir Woods National Monument where we marvelled at enormous Californian Redwoods and Douglas Firs. We spent the evening in the largest Chinatown district outside of Asia, then the following day rode on a cable car from Union Square to the historical Fisherman’s Wharf district, strolled along Pier 39 and took a ferry ride across San Francisco Bay to Alcatraz. On The Rock, we stood in the cells once occupied by Robert Stroud aka The Birdman of Alcatraz, Al Capone and Alvin ‘Creepy’ Karpis. The latter was the last Public Enemy No. 1 to be taken in during the gangster era and served twenty-six years on The Rock. He was the longest ever serving prisoner on Alcatraz.
After San Francisco, we travelled south towards Los Angeles. In LA, we spent a day visiting Disneyland and another day at Universal Studios. The next day we drove down to San Diego, visited the famous Zoo, then caught a Delta Airlines flight to New Orleans for the second part of our holiday.
On our first morning in the Big Easy , we went on a tour of the Superdome which is an incredibly impressive building. It’s a huge indoor stadium with a seated capacity of 75,000 for American Football games and also hosts Basketball, Wrestling, Soccer, Gymnastics and Baseball. It was at the Superdome that many people took refuge and were temporarily housed after the devastation of hurricane Katrina in August 2005.
Down on the huge floor area of the indoor stadium, hundreds of workers were in the process of transforming it for a Computer Sales convention that was due to start later that week.
By the end of our two-hour tour, we seriously needed to sit down and were grateful when it finished with all thirty of us sitting in the stands about halfway up. The tour concluded with a question-and-answer session, where all of the questions being asked of our tour guide were about American sport. We were actually the only British people on the tour so everyone was asking about American Football, Baseball and Basketball.
Sitting at the back of the group, I had my hand up for several minutes in a very British polite kind of way. All to no avail though, as the tour guide totally ignored me to answer the questions being shouted out by everyone else in a rather random manner.
I was hoping that the guide would’ve mentioned the topic of my, as yet, unasked question, because I thought it was a major event in the history of the Superdome, but it wasn’t going to happen. I needed to take the bull by the horns as I was now panicking that the tour would end and my question would go unanswered forever. I thought if you can’t beat them, join them. So, with my hands cupped around my mouth for maximum volume, I shouted, “What about The Rolling Stones?”
As soon as I’d shouted, I realised that I’d shouted far too loudly. It all went quiet and everyone turned around to look at me as if I was some kind of demented idiot.
“Sorry, can you repeat that question?” The tour guide said looking around, not knowing where this superb question had come from.
I waved my hand in the air so he could see me and said, “When did The Rolling Stones play here and where was the stage located?” I asked my brilliant question.
His answer was somewhat brief, rather vague and unhelpful.
“Yes, many big rock concerts have been held here over the years including The Rolling Stones, The Eagles, Stevie Wonder, Earth Wind and Fire and Johnny Cash.” When he said ‘The Rolling Stones,’ he nodded in my direction as if that was enough to answer my question. He then looked at all the American people on the tour when he name-checked the other bands that had played there. He was trying a classic fob off, but I was onto him.
He seemed keen to change the subject and added, “Any more questions?” as he clapped his hands together and looked around.
I was hoping he’d been present at the gig and could give me a detailed review plus the set list. My next question, if he’d been at the gig, was going to be, “What was on the set-list and which guitars did Keith play?” But I thought better of it.
Surely, my supplementary question would glean some really valuable information. I’d hit the bar and needed to follow up quickly to slot the ball home. I had to be quick though.
“Where was the stage situated and how many people were here for The Rolling Stones concert?” I asked before anyone else could jump in with another sports related question.
“The stage was at this end,” he said pointing down below us, “and the capacity for concerts now is about 60,000.”
“Thank you,” I replied, none the wiser, really.
No one on the tour was in the least bit interested that The Stones had played there and it seemed that the tour guide wasn’t either, otherwise he’d have mentioned it.
It was as if it was such a minor happening in the history of the Superdome that it didn’t even deserve the tiniest of mentions. However, for me, it was the only reason I’d wanted to visit the Superdome, because I knew that The Stones had played there three times in 1978, 1981 and 1989 and I just wanted to experience it for myself. To me, The Stones’ gigs were the most important events ever held there, even surpassing the recent Superbowl game. When The Stones played the Superdome in December 1981, they were supported by the Neville Brothers and George Thorogood & The Destroyers. That concert set a world record for the largest ever audience at an indoor venue with 87,500 fans being in attendance.
It would’ve been a fantastic place to see The Stones and I was thinking how brilliant it’d be if they were playing there this week instead of the boring Computer Sales convention, especially if we had great tickets right at the front. Wishful thinking on my part, though. I was trying to picture in my mind’s eye how the stadium would look with The Stones playing there, but couldn’t really visualise it.
The next morning, following a hearty traditional American breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash browns, grits, pancakes, maple syrup, orange juice, toast and coffee, we checked out of our hotel on Canal Street in the French Quarter. We hired a white Mercury Sable and set out on the second leg of our road trip which would take us from New Orleans in Louisiana, up to St. Louis in Missouri, a distance of about 670 miles.
Heading north out of New Orleans, we followed the meandering Mississippi River as much as possible over the next seven days, staying overnight at motels wherever we happened to be. Our planned route from Jackson Square, New Orleans, took us through Baton Rouge, Natchez, Vicksburg, Greenville, Clarksdale, Memphis and finally St. Louis, just in time to catch a flight back to London.
Most of these smaller towns I’d only ever heard of in songs. There’d been loads of songs written about Memphis and St. Louis including ‘Memphis, Tenness

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