Rolling Stones Redux

In honor of the 80th birthday of Charlie Watts next summer, the Rolling Stones are hard at work on the set list for a birthday tour. They are reworking many of their greatest (and earliest) hits. Some of the details have been leaked.

The set will open with the anthem of suburban curmudgeons everywhere, (Hey! you!) Get Off of My Lawn! (original 1965) Where else do you yell that from but your front porch rocker, with the ode Let it Rock? (1971).

The infirmities of aging get a workout. Arthritis of the thumb makes even simple activities difficult and painful. The problems of working the TV remote are detailed in Under My Thumb (1966). Falls and hip fractures are covered in Rip This Joint and rehab after hip replacement with Shake Your Hips (both 1972). Nobody likes uncontrolled flatulence, least of all Jumpin’ Jack Flash (he’s got gas, gas, gas) (1969). And with age comes erectile dysfunction, covered in (This could be) The Last Time (1965). Viagra is extolled in Start Me Up (1981). They sing of Type II diabetes in No Sugar (How come ya taste so good?) (1971), and, of course, hearing loss with Can’t You Hear Me Knockin’ (1971). Good caregivers are hard to find and keep. We hear about that in Mother’s Little Helper (1966). And someone has to hear our complaints, even if it’s only Dear Doctor (1968).

The Stones did cover tunes early in their career and end the same way. After a litany of the troubles of aging, they counsel us to have fun before it’s too late – (Get Your Kicks When) You’re 66 (1964). End of life is explored in Time Ain’t on My Side and It’s All Over Now (1965, 1964).

Remember, you heard it here first. Get your tickets while you can still remember.

I should be waking up early in an inn in Hope Valley, CA and riding the Death Ride today. Instead, I’m waking up just as early, and going to work.

Author: halffastcyclingclub

We are a group of friends who ride bikes. Some of us are fast, some of us are slow, all of us are half-fast. In 2018, one of us is riding coast to coast across the US. If we meet Sal Paradise, we'll let you know.

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