Concert Review
David Cassidy @ the Hoover Auditorium, Lakeside, Ohio
July 27, 2013
By Kristi Paddock
Part One – the Encounter (around 1:30 PM)
Allison Pearson: "If I had met you thirty years ago…"
David Cassidy: "You would not have been able to speak. I had that happen many times. It was very sweet."
- Allison Pearson, "I Think I Love You" (2010 novel; excerpt from her 2004 interview with David)
David, I spotted you as you stepped out of your shuttle limo in front of the Fountain Inn. I walked behind you and the band as you entered the hotel lobby. (I was staying there, too, so this wasn't stalking. Technically, anyway.) If I told you that I was in the red rain jacket – and that I stood at the check-in counter as Teri Cote signed in – would you say, "oh yes, I saw you there"? You were standing there in the lobby behind me, maybe ten, fifteen feet away, arm bandaged, shades on, polo shirt, black NYPD baseball cap with white lettering. I didn't have the nerve to turn around to look at you, let alone approach you or speak to you. All I could do was mumble "hi" to Teri. You and the band walked to the elevator; you stood in the middle of the back, looking out. I stared at you as the doors closed. I was shaking. I started babbling to the 20-something girl behind the desk: "That was David!" Later, I ended up babbling to Teri Cote in the elevator, too. (Teri, now that I have my brain back: you're an excellent percussionist, I love your version of "Brass in Pocket", and you seem like a really nice person. Thanks for listening to my David-speak.)
So what am I so afraid of? The whole five minutes – couldn't have been more than that – were so surrealistic. Why couldn't I approach you? Was I afraid that I'd break the spell? Afraid that the reality would destroy the fantasy? If you were aloof, you would break my heart; if you were gracious, I would linger too long. So I let you walk away.
Part Two – the Concert (8:15 PM)
Walter Yost: "Music is music. I find your songs charming… they make me happy."
Keith Partridge: "Yeah, but they're just not – important."
Walter Yost: "Don't you think making people happy is important?"
- Excerpt from Episode 77, "Beethoven, Brahms, and Partridge" (written by Bernard Slade), The Partridge Family
Is there any better way to spend your life, than to make others happy? Unless, perhaps, it's spending your life simply being happy. In my opinion, for 90 minutes last Saturday night, David accomplished both. The joy he radiates onstage is SO contagious. Dare I say it? The whole place was comin' on and gettin' happy.
The audience consisted of a couple thousand people, a real mix: senior citizens, middle-aged-women who brought their significant others, twenty-somethings, and lots of kids. David wasn't 100% physically; his right forearm was still bandaged (although it didn't hamper his guitar skills, as far as I could tell). When he spoke, his voice was raspy; he mentioned that he was coming down with something again: "Laryngitis is no big deal – unless, of course, you're a singer!" In spite of the illness, he still sounded great; he made the right choice to sing lower harmony parts most of the time instead of the melody. (That's okay - we were helping him sing, of course.) He sang the regular mix of songs, throwing in "Summer Days" (one of my favorites). He spoke about showing up for his first Broadway rehearsal wearing his mailroom smock (I can't imagine) and hearing "Hush" for the first time that day. He quipped that he suffers from CRS (ask an older person) and, after some shouted comments from the audience, that "it's always interesting to have a conversation with 2000 people at the same time!" At one point, in-between songs, he held up a David Cassidy beach towel (circa 1972) that a fan handed to him. At the owner's request, he used it to wipe the sweat off his face and neck. He gave it back to her, and as she thanked him and walked away from the stage (kind of dazed) he said, "no, honey, thank YOU - you don't understand how much this means to ME". I believe he is sincerely touched by the fact that he still means so much to all of us. By the end of the evening, kids were dancing to his songs, and the older fans were waving memorabilia for him to see. And when the "ba ba ba's" started for "I Think I Love You", I couldn't handle it any longer - I jumped out of my seat, ran up to the edge of the stage, and handed him the box lid for my 500+ piece David Cassidy Jigsaw Puzzle. He looked at it for a few moments and shook his head, seemingly amazed. (No, I didn't buy it on Ebay, and it will never be sold; my parents bought it for me 40 years ago; I still have the box bottom and every little piece.) And when he handed it back to me, I knew… I knew that, yes, I could have approached him. Maybe I knew too late, but I knew. David, if, earlier in the hotel lobby, I would have found my voice – I would have told you:
Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. For what, specifically?
For existing. That's all. Just for being who you are and doing what you do.
See you at Presque Isle.
