By Meirav Devash
I’m at a Rolling Stones concert at Madison Square Garden.
my left, my dad. On my right, another aging Stones fan. In my hand,
a beer. Three seats away from me, a respectable-looking man wearing
a button-down shirt, corduroy slacks, and wire-rimmed glasses is alternately
screaming, "Keith! Raise the roof!" and "Joan Baez
knows rock and roll!" at five-second intervals.
The man on my right leans in and knowingly says, "That guy’s ON something."