While I might have been a bit young to experience Beatlemania, Wednesday night’s concert by former-General Hospital star Rick Springfield must have come close. Walking through the lobby of the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel, I was amazed to see middle-aged women squeezed into jeans they hadn’t tried on since high school storming through the hotel in knee-high boots, posing for pictures in front of Rick Springfield concert posters. One group of rather boisterous ladies, donning Rick Springfield VIP Passes, made laps around the lobby in a sort of “Look what I’ve got!” parade. I even witnessed several episodes of hotel security flagging down fans for trying to steal posters and anything else with Springfield’s name or likeness on it. It was all a bit surreal for me, so I decided to escape the madness and head over to the stage area for the show.
The only way I can explain what happened next is to offer that it was much like the quiet, calm you get just before a tornado drops, tossing your house, car and everything you own thousands of feet into the air. I was standing the press-only area between the stage and front row, talking to a few colleagues and getting ready for the show. Suddenly the lights went out and the entire reserved seat section surged forward, trapping us in the first few rows of the mayhem. Two of my fellow photographers were lucky enough to squeeze into a fenced off section, but I was trapped in the middle of the crowd. Scrambling for my camera in the dark, a nearly ear-splitting squeal erupted from the audience as Springfield took the stage. I can honestly say that my trusty earplugs may have saved my hearing. For the first two songs, I fought for a clear shot of Springfield, struggled to hear the music among the screams and got groped by somebody’s mom. I’d finally had enough and retreated to a safer position, outside of the hysteria.
Although not an artist that I’d count amongst my top favorites, Springfield did put on a pretty decent show. Mixed in with his own pop hits, the set list even included a few covers by artists like Paul McCartney and Jimi Hendrix. Springfield did seem as though he was working hard to separate himself from the squeaky-clean, soap star image, taking the stage in a sleeveless shirt to show off numerous tattoos and tossing out some language not usually found in daytime dramas. Whatever he’s doing, he must be doing it right. Last night’s show was sold out and I’m sure that any future dates will experience the same level of Springfieldmania.
Photos (c)2009 Jeff O'Kelley, all rights reserved
