Icky Pop

Nobody is exempt from the ravages of time and aging … except maybe for QB Tom Brady. Nobody can cheat death … except maybe for Rolling Stone Keith Richards. I am no exception. As I age, I am finding that even my wrinkles have wrinkles. I get it. We get old. We get gross.

I accept that fact as I go concerting, seeing a mix of new and old acts. The old acts show some mileage and tread wear. That’s right, they look tired. See what I did there? I used some tire analogies and then the word tired?

Editor’s Note: He thinks he’s so clever. He’s not. Those “clever” tire references are nothing more than retread puns. See what I did there?

Anyhoo, Iggy Pop came to town this weekend. I would have liked to see one of the pioneers of punk, but he played the Salt Shed, a new music venue with no seating unless one wants to pay a lot more. I don’t. It’s probably for the best.

If I ever walk around the house without a shirt, my youngest daughter will cry out in despair, “Put a shirt on!” Now I know why. Here’s 75-year old shirtless Iggy on stage at the Salt Shed.

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