This morning I came across a tweet from one of my favorite rock bands, Styx. Their tweet said:
On this day in 1981, we released an album called Paradise Theater. It was the first time we reached #1 and it was our 4th multiplatinum album in a row.
Were you one of those who bought this album when it hit the record store shelves?
I can't say that I went out and bought this album on this day thirty-seven years ago. I'm sure I was aware a new album was coming. It's possible I got a ride with my brother (I was a year away from getting my driver's license...) and we drove down to Grand Central or JCPenneys or ZCMI, or another place that sold vinyl records or cassette tapes, or 8-tracks, but I don't know for sure. I was four years away from keeping a daily journal so I can't check there.
What I DO know is that I did attend the Styx Paradise Theatre tour when it came to the Salt Palace. I have proof--a sticker that I somehow saved. I took a picture of my sticker and responded to Styx's tweet and included the picture. I saw Styx several times in the Salt Palace, and another time about ten years ago in a different venue. Styx had a great sound. I listened to their albums again and again, over and over. It's good stuff.
When you think about it, thirty-seven years is not that long. Of course, it's relative. It's long for a rock band (who are still touring...), but it's not long for, say, a rock. But something struck me as I wrote this blog post--how many things have disappeared from our society--the places we used to buy music, the music formats themselves, and the venue where I heard the bands--pretty much all gone. How fitting, considering the theme of Styx's album, remembering a more innocent time when a theatre became the heart of a society.
And now, the album itself represents a past time, a different time, just like the Paradise Theatre.