Last week, my dream came true: I saw the Beatles perform all of my favorite songs, live in concert in Chicago.
Okay, it wasn’t quite the “real” Beatles. It was Rain: A Tribute to the Beatles, brought to my neighborhood via Broadway in Chicago.
This was definitely the closest I have – and probably will – come to seeing my favorite band in concert. Since third grade, when I fell in love with the Beatles, I’ve loved this group, but was always a bit sad that I’d never be able to see them perform. While my friends saw Britney Spears, Dave Matthews Band, and Guster perform, I listened to my Beatles CDs and imagined what it must have been like to watch them perform on the Ed Sullivan show in 1964 or at Shea Stadium in 1965.
But, in 2011, here they were – Beatles impersonators singing in costume, starting with their “I Want to Hold Your Hand” clean-cut suits, moving on to their “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” crazy costumes, and ending with their “Let It Be” hippie jeans.
The show was perfect – except for the audience.
In my mind, this was a real concert, even in the Ford Center for the Performing Arts in Chicago’s theater district. But the other audience members seemed to have forgotten the lyrics to the songs.
I seemed to be the only one singing along to the songs. “Ticket to Ride,” “Revolution,” and “Give Peace a Chance” became my chance to solo with the band, and I wanted to get up and scream out the words. In an audience full of people three times my age, is it possible the 24-year-old Lia needed to teach the Beatles lyrics?
Despite the quiet audience, I was so glad to have the chance to see my favorite band – of which only half of the members remain alive – perform for me.
Do you want to know a secret? If you ever get this ticket to ride, like I did the night before, I highly recommend you go to the show all together now and twist and shout. The songs were hits before your mother was born, but they didn’t write the songs for no one. I know that if I get the chance again, I’ll be back at some point in my life, even if it’s when I’m 64. That’s my advice, from me to you.