My Two Unbelievable Nights With the Stones

Somehow the Rolling Stones are still here with us. Mick Jagger is 80 years old — 80! — and so is Keith Richards. Ronnie Wood is the baby of the band at 77.

And yet they’re back out on tour, again drawing delirious sell-out crowds and rave reviews.

This from the New York Times: “The Stones effectively proved they could outrun age, irrelevancy and all the other indignities that time brings to mere mortals.”

But the Times review also pointed out that this time around the tour is being sponsored by — AARP. Yes, the American Association of Retired Persons.

When the AARP magazine broke this news last year (I admit, I subscribe) the story noted: “Music is one of the few established tools for helping people with Alzheimer’s.” Cool.

The Stones might seem immortal. But this year’s tour carries an element of the sadly inevitable: Charlie Watts is not there. He died in 2021. He was 80. (Steve Jordan is the new drummer.)

But oh, you Mick! He’s the father of eight, has five grandkids (a sixth is on the way) and three great-grandchildren!

I’m glad the Stones are still out there, inspiring us baby boomers. But don’t look for me at their shows this year. I’ve seen them live multiple times, including at Madison Square Garden in 1975 and Gillette Stadium in Foxboro, Mass. about 25 years after that. But nothing, nothing can ever compare to my two amazing cannot-believe-this nights with the Stones.

In the summer of 1972 I was living in Boston when it was announced the Stones would play at Boston Garden. I had never seen them; here was my chance. It took a little extra effort — I bought a scalped ticket for about 30 bucks. Thirty bucks! It seemed like a lot of money. But come on, it’s the Stones!

The opening act wasn’t too shabby either: Stevie Wonder. He played an energetic set to a sweltering sweaty crowd of 15,000 that hot night in July. And then he left the stage. And we waited. And waited. And waited.

What was happening? The crowd grew increasingly restless, impatient, confused. And then at 11:00 p.m. we got — Boston Mayor Kevin White. What the?

“I’m no substitute for the Stones,” he told us quite unnecessarily. “I’m not here to sing but I’m here to make a plea to you.”

And then he told us the Stones had been unable to land at Boston’s Logan Airport because of heavy fog. And so they had been re-routed to Rhode Island. When they got off the plane, Richards got pissed at a newspaper photographer, punched him and was arrested! Then Mick, protesting, got arrested too!

As White delivered this jaw-dropping news the Garden was filled with boos and jeers. White waited a few seconds, then added: “And I called the police and I got them out!”

Five-minute standing ovation! But White wasn’t done: “I’ve called the MTA and they’re going to keep running all night. But another part of my city is in flames. We’re having a great deal of difficulty in the Puerto Rican neighborhood.” He implored us to please stay calm, not to act up and trash the Garden. Just hang on for the Stones.

And finally, finally, at 12:45 a.m., there they were! Mick in his skin-tight purple jump suit, singing and prancing through “Brown Sugar.” There was no way I was staying in my seat on the upper level. I ran down to the floor to join the swirling mass of Stoners.

The Stones played on ‘til 2:15 a.m., closing with an encore of “Honky Tonk Women.”

But that wasn’t my most dramatic Stones experience.

In the summer of 1989 the band was preparing to go out on their first tour in eight years (the “Steel Wheels” tour). They wanted to try out their new material — and prove that they still had it! — in front of a small audience, in a club setting. (I described all this in the book I co-wrote with Brian Phelps, “The Legendary Toad’s Place: Stories From New Haven’s Famed Music Venue.”)

This was the message left on the phone at my home in New Haven on Aug. 12, 1989: “There’s a real good chance the Stones are playing at Toad’s tonight! You didn’t hear it from me. Just call me Deep Throat.”

My wife and I stared at each other. What?! The Stones playing in our town? At Toad’s? Could it be?

We got down there fast to check it out. The poster on the door advertised a local band called the Sons of Bob. The bouncer at the door kept up the ruse. Stones? What Stones? Gimme three bucks and step inside.

There was such a buzz in that place! DJs, media people, those in the know were positioned, expectant.

Indeed we did get the Sons of Bob as the opening act. The fever mood built.

At 10:40 p.m., Toad’s co-owner Mike Spoerndle came on the stage and said “Ladies and Gentlemen” and promoter Jim Koplik alongside him shouted: “Please welcome the Rolling Stones!”

And out they came, Richards hitting the opening riff of “Start Me Up,” Jagger jumping straight into the air as he grabbed the microphone! We were rubbing our eyes in disbelief.

We got 11 songs in the next 55 minutes, including a new one, “Mixed Emotions” and some of their greatest hits, including “Honky Tonk Women” and “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” Between songs Jagger was thanking us for still loving them after their eight-year absence.

Just before they ran off, to bolt through several hundred people in the street outside, Jagger slapped hands with the fans at the edge of the stage. “You’re too kind,” he said. “My goodness!”

And so, no, I don’t have a hankering to pay big bucks to see the Stones in 2024 in a large stadium where they’re barely visible.

Nothing can compare.