Little River Band / Poco, Oct. 1, 1981, El Paso Civic Center South Hall, El Paso, TX

       For my first eight concerts, getting the tickets was relatively easy.  My parents graciously supported my love of live music and I enjoyed a good string of quality entertainment while having to endure very little stress for the privilege.  That streak of luck almost ran out, however, when it came time to see my ninth show, The Little River Band and Poco.

       In the few weeks leading up to the start of my junior year in high school, I spent my early evening hours running hard miles with my team-mates from the cross-country team.  We were serious about our sport and it made sense to us to prepare for the upcoming season.  Normally, a workout would last about an hour and a half.  This meant that I'd usually be home by about eight or eight-thirty.  Unfortunately, one particular workout lasted a bit longer and I arrived home a few minutes after nine.

       As far as I knew, I had no set-in-stone curfew, so I saw no problem with coming home a little late.  My parents, however, saw it differently, were angry, and promptly informed me that I would not be seeing the Little River Band concert.  This punishment, on the surface, would not have raised any protestations of fairness from me.  I did not own any Little River Band or Poco albums and so was not very invested in their music in a way that I would have been for Foghat, Judas Priest, or Molly Hatchet.  But I'd already asked my favorite red-headed girl to go to the show, and having to tell her that we couldn't go because I was being punished for a (non-existent) curfew violation raised all sorts of angry feelings inside my adolescent mind.  Most of all, though, I feared that my loss of our date would make me look weak in an already tenuous high school relationship.

       So, I went into bargaining mode.  And when that didn't work, I escalated to begging mode.  And when that didn't work, I moved up to whining mode.  And when that didn't work, I went into full-blown teenager pouting mode.

       Now, of course, with the benefit of hindsight, I know I was wrong.  I should have accepted my punishment and gotten over the fact that I could not take a girl who really didn't like me that much to see a couple of bands that I didn't care about until I'd read they were coming to town.  But my teenage mind just could not see it that way.  I was a manipulative kid, as my Simon and Garfunkel incident clearly proves, and my Mom eventually gave in, bought our tickets and drove us to the show.

       The show was staged in the El Paso Civic Center South Hall and the setup was very strange.  The hall was a rectangle with bleachers along one long side.  Instead of placing the stage in the center of the opposite long side, the promoter had the stage at the end of the long side.  So a lucky few were standing or sitting in front of the stage, while the majority---including my date and I---watched the show from the right of the stage and at a considerable distance.

       Poco began their performance promptly at eight o'clock with a thunderously confident version of the song "Under the Gun."  I'm aware that the words "thunderously confident" have probably never been used to describe a Poco tune, but it's the only accurate description for the way the band took the stage.  The song is dominated by a strong eight note riff and guitarist Rusty Young played it while holding his guitar out to the side.  When the chorus came around, new bassist Charlie Harrison sang the words with fervor while his long hair hung in his eyes.  I'd never heard the song before, but it immediately accomplished two things: it made me a fan of Poco, and it became one of my favorite Poco tunes.

       Up until the show, I'd only been aware of Poco for a few years.  Their album "Legend," released in 1978, featured two songs that reached the top twenty of the singles chart: "Crazy Love" and "Heart of the Night."  Both songs were all over the radio in 1978 and so were impossible for me to ignore.  I liked them both and was happy to hear them played in a live setting.

       A few days before the show, during a doctor visit, I mentioned to a doctor that I was going to see Poco in concert and his reaction was to raise his eyebrows and say "They're still around?"  This statement made me stop and think about what I knew about Poco.  Apparently, they'd been around a lot longer than I'd thought.

       Rusty Young and guitarist/singer Ritchie Furay were both involved with the band Buffalo Springfield, and after the dissolution of that band decided to form their own band, calling themselves Pogo, after the comic strip.  Walt Kelly, the cartoonist for the famous comic soon  raised objections to the use of the name and they changed the name to Poco.  They released their first album in 1969 and over the next few years released many albums that reached a small niche of country rock fans.  Original guitarist Jim Messina was replaced by Paul Cotton in 1970, and in 1973 Furay left to pursue other projects.  By the time "Legend" was released in 1978, the only two longtime members were Young and Cotton.

       Of course, the band reached back into their pre-"Legend" material during their set at the Civic Center, giving me an eye-opening history of American country rock.  They played upbeat early tunes like "A Good Feeling to Know" and "Grand Junction" as well as the dramatic and uplifting "Rose of Cimmaron."

        After a short intermission, The Little River Band took to the stage and proceeded to play one hit after another.  Anybody growing up within earshot of a radio in the late seventies would have known most of the songs played that evening.  "Lady," "Help is on Its Way," "Lonesome Loser," "Happy Anniversary," "Cool Change," and "Reminiscing" were all given fine renditions with trademark perfect harmonies.

       Fortunately, all three songwriters responsible for the bulk of their hits were present at the show in El Paso: singer Glenn Shorrock, guitarist David Briggs, and guitarist Graham Goble.

       Besides their previous hits, the band from Australia also played songs from their newest album, "Time Exposure," which were every bit as infectious as the older material.  These songs included "Man on Your Mind," "Take it Easy on Me," and a surprisingly rocking version of "The Night Owls," sung by new bassist Wayne Nelson.

       I left this concert with an appreciation for both The Little River Band and Poco that I did not expect to gain.  For both bands, the sound was professional, the playing was tight, and the harmonies were warm and well delivered.  I can't say that I am proud of how I came to see the show, but I am glad that I can say that I've seen both bands.

Foghat / Danny Joe Brown Band / The Rods, Aug. 27, 1981, El Paso County Coliseum, El Paso, TX

       

    

       If it's not obvious by now, I need to enunciate my thoughts on classic rock and roll: I am now and have always been a fan of classic rock and roll bands from the sixties and seventies.  I like it all: the big blues bands, the glam rockers, the laid-back California country-rockers, the progressive rockers, the punk rockers, and the southern rockers.  And fortunately for me, El Paso in the early eighties was fertile touring ground for classic rock bands.  When I heard on the radio that Foghat was bringing their legendary blues rock to town, I was more than happy to do whatever extra chores and begging was necessary to get the money from my parents for a ticket.

        My brother, Tom, shared my affection for classic rock and agreed to go to the show with me.  Two years my senior, he'd graduated half a semester early from Bitburg American High School in Germany and was now living and working in El Paso.  He drove us to the show, which was at the El Paso County Coliseum, in his metallic pea-green Ford Pinto.  My friends from the track team at Andress High School, John and Tony, tagged along with us.

       We got to the venue an hour before show time. This was Tom's first show at the Coliseum and he decided to plunge into the experience head-first by skipping the seats and watching the show from the crowd in front of the stage.  John, Tony, and I were less adventurous and found seats in the first few rows on the left side of the stage and not too far back.

       At around seven-thirty, the first of two opening acts, upstate New York rockers The Rods, took the stage.  A three-piece band fronted by singer/guitarist David "Rock" Feinstein---a cousin of famed metal vocalist Ronnie James Dio, The Rods played a straight-ahead, no-frills brand of rock and roll that fell somewhere between heavy metal and punk.  They were loud, brash, cussed a lot, and their drummer gave the finger to the audience at the end of his drum solo.  I can't say that I didn't enjoy their music while it lasted, but twenty minutes after they'd left the stage, I couldn't remember the name of any of the songs they'd played.

       Next to perform was Danny Joe Brown and the Danny Joe Brown Band.  Brown surprised the rock world by leaving the southern rock band Molly Hatchet at the height of their success, but what wasn't a surprise was the high quality of the debut solo album for which he was touring.  Guided by none other than Glynn Johns, the famous British producer who'd previously worked with Eric Clapton, The Rolling Stones, The Who, and The Eagles, Brown's first and only solo effort was a perfect mix of the blues and country of southern rock and the flash and polish of modern hard rock.

       The Danny Joe Brown Band was getting radio airplay with a song called "Edge of Sundown," and the band gave it a ferocious rendering at the Coliseum.  The band utilized a three guitar lineup similar to Molly Hatchet, but unlike Brown's former band, a keyboard player was thrown into the mixture, giving an added element of depth and atmosphere to "Edge of Sundown" and the rest of Brown's new repertoire.

        Brown couldn't completely ignore his past, of course, and for his final number he led his band through a mighty version of Molly Hatchet's "Flirtin' with Disaster."  It came off perfectly until the end of the song.  Where there is normally a pause in the music and a growling vocal from Brown, he chose to hold his microphone out to the audience to let them provide the growl.  At that moment, El Paso's crazed rock fan, Simon, took the opportunity to swing his jacket at the microphone and instead of a growl, the pause in the music was filled with a well-timed thud.  Brown pulled the microphone back and the band brought the song to its muscular conclusion, bringing to a close a great set from one of southern rocks best vocalists.

              Finally, at around nine thirty, the lights dimmed and Foghat hit the stage with "Stone Blue," an aggressive blues-rock song from their album of the same name.  It was a great opening statement for the band, getting the audience firmly on their side with the feel-good sentiment of the lyric: "When I was stone blue, rock and roll sure helped me through!"

       After the first song, somebody down in the crowd yelled something at lead singer/guitarist "Lonesome" Dave Peverett and he smiled and said: "That one comes a bit later."  From that moment it was obvious that the crowd was there to hear the big hits from the seventies.

       There are those who believe that Foghat's glory days ended after the "Stone Blue" album, and it must have been frustrating for the band to try and remain relevant by continuing to release new material in a fast-changing musical landscape.  Blues rock was quickly fading out of fashion by 1981 and Foghat's latest album, "Girls to Chat and Boys to Bounce," for which they were touring, strayed from their bread-and-butter formula by incorporating pub rock tunes and even a little bit of ska.  For my part, I liked the new song that was getting played on the radio, "Live Now, Pay Later," and  the crowd seemed to enjoy it when they played it early in their set.

       Rod Price, the guitarist from Foghats' classic period left the band after disagreeing with their new musical direction.  He was replaced by Erik Cartwright, who capably filled in the big shoes of his predecessor and added a new dimension of playing, especially on the new material, like "Wide Boy," a pub-rocking pop tune from their new album.  It passed without much notice at the Coliseum, but has stood the test of time as one of the better early eighties Foghat songs.

       Another post-"Stone Blue" song played was the ballad "Third Time Lucky" from the "Boogie Motel" album.  "Lonesome" Dave Peverett rendered the song alone onstage, accompanying himself on a keyboard.  It was the first time I'd heard the song and it's since become one of my favorite Foghat tunes.  It's easy for me to appreciate and empathize with the hopeful lyrics of the chorus: "The first time I was a fool/ I never knew that love could be so cruel/ it happened to me again/ third time lucky."

       Of course, the band couldn't ignore the big hits all night, and they eventually unleashed suitably rocking renditions of "Fool for the City," " I Just Want to Make Love to You," and "Slow Ride," which was played as the last encore song. The audience showed appropriate enthusiasm for these classics, and I was no exception.  The band was tight, professional, played with passion, and deserved every bit of applause we gave them.

       After the show, as I rode through the streets of El Paso in the passenger seat of my brothers car, with the window down and the cool evening wind in my hair, I had the presence of mind to appreciate my good fortune at having seen Foghat.  They were one of the giants of seventies classic rock and I felt lucky to have seen them with such an appreciative audience.  To this day, I still feel that way.  It was a very good show.

Jefferson Starship / .38 Special, July 26, 1981, El Paso County Coliseum, El Paso, TX

 

       After the contemporary country and western detour of Barbara Mandrell, I was more than ready to rock and roll again----and the sooner the better.  Fortunately, eighteen days later, I found myself standing in the crowd in front of the stage at the El Paso County Coliseum, cheering on Jefferson Starship and .38 Special.

       As usual, my parents bought my ticket.  They were off the hook for driving me to the show, however.  My friend Rene' went to the show with me and drove us in his green Toyota Something-or-other----I think it was a Celica, but I can't remember for sure.

       When we got inside the Coliseum, my luck at finding good seats in the front row and near the stage ran out.  All of the good seats were taken, and wanting to be as close to the action as possible, Rene' and I decided to stand in the crowd a few rows from the stage.  This was an easier choice for Rene'---he was much taller than me.  Still, standing in the crowd wasn't as bad as I expected.  For the most part, my view of the stage was unobstructed, and of course, standing on the floor in front of the stage provided the best sound.

       .38 Special was, like Molly Hatchet, a band from Jacksonville, Florida. And while both bands sold raucous southern rock, .38 Special's particular style was a little more polished and radio-friendly.  Which is not to say that they didn't rock, which indeed they did, starting with their opening number, "Turn it On."

       Vocalist Donnie Van Zant, the younger brother of Lynyrd Skynyrd's Ronnie, was a bundle of good old boy energy, leading the band on their opening number "Turn it On," through stompers like "First Time Around," "Stone Cold Believer," and the title track of their newest album "Wild Eyed Southern Boys."

       After the rousing instrumental, "Robin Hood," guitarist Don Barnes took over the lead vocals for "Hold On Loosely," which was the song from "Wild Eyed Southern Boys" that was currently getting the most airplay on the radio.  The crowd reacted as enthusiastically to the song as they did to another song sung by Don Barnes later that set, "Rockin' Into the Night."

       Aside from "Hold on Loosely" and "Rockin' Into the Night," I knew almost nothing about .38 Special before seeing them at the Coliseum.  After their set, however, I was impressed enough to head over to the vendors booth to buy a softball jersey T-shirt.  The T-shirt had black sleeves that came to the elbow, and the front and back were white, with the cover art of "Wild Eyed Southern Boys" on the chest.  In the weeks after this purchase, I determined I wasn't a fan of softball jersey T-shirts, and it was the last of the style I ever bought.

       After a short intermission, Jefferson Starship roared onstage with a version of "Somebody to Love."  Grace Slick, who had been away from the band for a few years, was back and in fine form.  She and lead vocalist Mickey Thomas sounded great together and did justice to the Jefferson Airplane classic.  Needless to say, it was a good way to get the attention of the audience.

       Having been around as a band since 1974, Jefferson Starship went through many personnel changes before hitting El Paso in support of their "Modern Times" album.  The lineup for the album and tour was particularly strong, featuring Thomas, Slick, founding guitarist and vocalist Paul Kantner, guitarist Craig Chaquico, bassist Pete Sears (who'd previously played with Rod Stewart), drummer Aynsley Dunbar (who'd played with Frank Zappa, David Bowie, and Journey), and bassist-keyboardist David Freiberg.  Altogether, they produced a harder, heavier sound than the band had achieved in the past.

       "Find Your Way Back" was the song from "Modern Times" that was getting airplay. The band played it early in the set, followed closely by another new song, "Save Your Love," which featured a tremendous guitar solo by Chaquico.  Other songs played from the new album were "Mary," "Stranger," and the hilarious slap at music critics, "Stairway to Cleveland."

       Mickey Thomas had previously sung for Elvin Bishop's band and in fact, was the vocalist on the hit single "Fooled Around and Fell in Love."  I didn't know this until Grace Slick mentioned it while introducing Thomas right before the band played a faithful cover of the song.  It was a nice surprise in the set list and judging by the response, I'm certain I'm not the only one in the audience who enjoyed it.

       Jefferson Starship played a great set.  If I wasn't exactly a fan before the show, I was by the time they left the stage.  And incidentally, just before they left the stage, Paul Kantner raised his hand to the audience and said "Thank you, New Mexico!"  There was a short, stunned pause, and then Grace Slick grabbed a microphone and said "And Texas!  And Mexico!"  It was a humorous moment, and a nice save by Slick.

       Jefferson Starship and .38 Special both played commendable sets.  If part of the purpose for live shows is to promote the sale of albums, then both bands succeeded, because I bought both "Modern Times" and "Wild Eyed Southern Boys." 

       It was a cool show.

Barbara Mandrell, July 8, 1981, UTEP Special Events Center, El Paso, TX

       There's no way of knowing for sure, of course, but I feel fairly confident that I may be one of only a handful of people to ever follow up a Judas Priest show with a Barbara Mandrell concert.  This was in 1981, when Barbara Mandrell was arguably at the peak of her popularity.  I wasn't then, and am not now a fan of her particular brand of country and western music, but I was, all those years ago, a fan of a certain red-headed girl from my high school named Virginia.  Virginia wanted very badly to see Barbara Mandrell in concert, and so, consequently, did I.

       My parents bought our tickets and drove us to the show at the UTEP Special Events Center---where the UTEP Miners played their basketball games.  They dropped us off at around seven-fifteen, forty-five minutes before the start of the show, and  we headed immediately to our seats, which were decently situated,  in front of the stage and a little more than half-way back.

      Mandrell took the stage looking beautiful---in an early eighties adult- contemporary  country and western sort of way---wearing a white sequined gown.  She was backed by a professional band and the crowd enthusiastically received the delivery of her hits, including "Sleeping Single in a Double Bed," "(If Loving You is Wrong) I Don't Want to be Right," "I Was Country When Country Wasn't Cool," "Woman to Woman," and "Crackers."

       I was prepared to begin the previous paragraph with a statement about how I didn't remember much from the concert, but the fact that I can recall so many songs is a genuine testament to Barbara Mandrell's ubiquitous presence on the popular music landscape of the late seventies and early eighties.  I have not heard these songs in over thirty years and I can still remember the chorus to each off the top of my head.  Not bad for a performer for whom I claim to have no interest.

       I called my parents after the show and they came and picked us up.  While we waited for them outside the Special Events Center, I'm pretty sure I got a kiss or two.  It was a fun night, though it remains to this day as one of the more unlikely shows for me to have seen.  Still, Barbara Mandrell was and is a legitimate star of Country and Western---she was inducted into the Country and Western Hall of Fame in 2009---and I don't have any regrets about catching her show when I did.

Judas Priest / Humble Pie / Iron Maiden, June 5, 1981, El Paso County Coliseum, El Paso, TX

      After spending my early teen years in Germany developing a keen appreciation for music---and rock and roll, in particular, I was making the most of my first year in El Paso by seeing as many concerts as possible.  Since my first show in February, I was almost seeing one concert a month, and June got off to a great start with a fantastic show featuring three titans of rock and roll history: Judas Priest, Humble Pie, and Iron Maiden.

       My friend John, who previously had to forfeit his ticket to the Molly Hatchet concert in February due to trouble with his parents, came along with me for this trip to the El Paso County Coliseum.  The plan for the evening was for me to spend the night at his house, and his dad drove us to the show, dropping us off an hour before the eight o'clock show time.

       Having already seen a couple of concerts at the Coliseum, I acted like a grizzled rock and roll veteran, showing my friend the ropes for his first show.  By the time we got inside, the seats were filling quickly, but fortunately, I was able to find a place for us to sit in the front row and to the right of the stage.  We weren't too far back, and were, in fact, closer than I'd been in my two previous shows at the coliseum.  The view was great and the sound was loud!

       Iron Maiden took the stage at eight o'clock with the dramatic and galloping instrumental "The Ides of March."  I'd never heard of them before, and frankly wasn't sure what to make of them.  I'd noticed before the show that lots of long-haired guys in the audience were sporting the Iron Maiden T-shirt, which featured the band's mascot Eddie, leering and holding a bloody hatchet while standing over an apparent victim.  I enjoyed aggressive and boisterous rock and roll as much as the next guy, but I just couldn't wrap my head around that kind of violent imagery, which seemed almost pointless to me.  Still, they sounded great, and I was more than willing to give them a fair listen.

      After "The Ides of March," singer Paul Di'Anno stormed the stage and belted out the song "Wrathchild."  Di'Anno had a voice and stage presence that packed a heavy dose of menace and sometimes bordered on punk rock, though everything else about the band pointed directly to the future of heavy metal music.

       I wasn't familiar at all with Iron Maiden's material at this time, but over the years, when referring to this show, I've always mentioned that they played the song "Charlotte the Harlot."  That song and it's potent performance stuck with me.  And then, today when I was researching their set on the website setlist.fm, the song is not mentioned as having been played that night.  I'm certain there are dedicated Iron Maiden fans out there that know this sort of detail, but, not knowing their material at the time, I can't think of another reason for the song to be in my memory of the show.

       I didn't actually become a legitimate fan of Iron Maiden's music until the "Piece of Mind" album, and though I now own almost every studio album, I'm still not as appreciative of the early stuff as I am of the later material.  Still, I'm more than happy to have seen these heavy metal legends in their early years, when they were just gaining worldwide recognition and when mascot Eddie made his appearance onstage as just a guy in a leather jacket wearing a mask. 

       Next to hit the stage was Humble Pie.  After a loud and expletive-laced introduction, they launched immediately into a thunderously rhythmic version of their FM radio classic "I Don't Need No Doctor."  (The song was written by Jo Armstead, Nick Ashford, and Valerie Simpson, and was first recorded in 1966 by Ray Charles, but Humble Pie took it to rock audiences in a big way on their masterpiece "Performance: Rockin' the Fillmore" album in 1971.)  As the lights came up and the band gained steam with the propulsive riff of the song, bassist Anthony "Sooty" Jones put his head back and blew a mouthful of beer into the air and let it rain down on himself.  It was a wild and quintessentially old-school classic rock way to open a set and the audience quickly got into the groove, including one woman in the middle of the crowd who was wearing a tube-top and riding atop the shoulders of a man.

       Steve Marriott, Humble Pie's founding singer/guitarist, was in great form.  He wore a very English hounds-tooth coat, grey slacks, and white loafers, and sang with the same trade-marked howl that had served him well since fronting the Small Faces in the hey-day of the British rock and roll scene in the 1960s.  His guitar and harmonica prowess were also on full display and not in the least bit disappointing.

       Supporting Marriott on guitar was journeyman Bobby Tench, who previously played with Jeff Beck and Van Morrison---he played with Van Morrison on the November 4th, 1978 edition of Saturday Night Live, adding a brilliant guitar solo to the song "Wavelength."  For his performance in El Paso with Humble Pie, he brought nothing but dirty slabs of irresistibly catchy boogie riffs that ensured I'd later search out the latest Humble Pie albums: "On to Victory" and "Go for the Throat."

       The band chugged through a great set of rock and roll that included "Infatuation," a rave-up from "On to Victory," "30 Days in the Hole," from the "Smokin'" album, and a cover of the Elvis Presley/Otis Blackwell tune "All Shook Up" from "Go for the Throat."

       I was very satisfied with what Humble Pie had to offer.  At first glance, it seemed like a musical mismatch to put classic rock veterans Humble Pie on a bill between metal acts Judas Priest and Iron Maiden, but they acquitted themselves well and left the audience cheering.

       Next, Judas Priest began their set with the song "Solar Angels" from their current album, "Point of Entry."  The song began with a slow and deliberate guitar riff that worked the crowd into a state of anticipation that finally found release in a controlled explosion of energy when the drums and bass kicked in and singer Rob Halford, decked out in leather biker gear, strolled onstage and began to sing the song with his amazing operatic range.  It was a very cool way to open the show.

       Next, the band shifted gears and picked things up a bit with "Heading Out to the Highway," also from "Point of Entry."  This song was  a favorite of mine and I had no problem singing right along with Halford on the chorus.  In fact, I think that the majority of the audience joined in to sing along.

       Halford's voice and stage presence were in peak form during this period of Judas Priest's career.  He energetically roamed from one side of the stage to the other and effortlessly hit the high wailing notes for which he was famous, while behind him, guitarists K.K. Downing and Glenn Tipton played with precision the riffs and leads that defined metal music for millions of fans worldwide.  And since this was the most successful lineup of Judas Priest, it must be mentioned that bassist Ian Hill and drummer Dave Holland were a finely tuned rhythm section.

       I'd become a fan of Judas Priest because of the "British Steel" album, which I bought in 1980.  I'd never heard of Judas Priest before, let alone the heavy-metal genre.  I actually bought the album based on how cool I thought the band looked on the back cover.  Luckily, when I got the album on my turntable, I found that I very much liked the sound they were selling.  There wasn't a bad song on "British Steel" and in El Paso they played three songs from the album: "You Don't Have to be Old to be Wise," "Breaking the Law" and "Living After Midnight."

       As the show progressed, the band reached back into their catalog to play old favorites like "Beyond the Realms of Death" from the "Stained Glass" album---a song I'd never heard before, and "Victim of Changes" from the album of the same name.  For the climax of the song "Victim of Changes," I think it's fair to say that everyone who knew the song leaned forward in focused anticipation for the high wail that Halford unleashes toward the end, and when he finally hit it, there could not have been a disappointed fan in the house.  He hit it dead-on perfect.

       Another great rendering during the show was one of the most unlikely covers in Judas Priests repertoire: Joan Baez's "Diamonds and Rust."  I've heard her say in interviews that she was both thrilled and stunned at their version of her song, and who could blame her?  It shouldn't work, but it does, spectacularly.  Since the 1990's, the band has been playing the song with acoustic instruments, but back in 1981 they were still giving it the full-on electric treatment and it rocked!

       Before leaving the stage, with the crowd on their feet roaring with approval, Halford mentioned that El Paso was one of the favorite places for Judas Priest to play, and for good reason.  The crowd at the El Paso County Coliseum was solidly appreciative from the first note to the last.  It was a great show!

       John and I found his Dad in the parking lot and he drove us to their home with our ears ringing from the loud rock and roll of three great bands.  John bought a Judas Priest poster and immediately hung it on the wall of his room.  I didn't have money for a poster or T-shirt, but as I fell asleep, I was very happy with the reason my ears were ringing.