I went to the theatre last night to see Jersey Boys, the story of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. The show was brilliant, but not everyone's cup of tea. The audience was overwhelmingly of a certain generation - those darned baby boomers. There were boomers of all sizes and shapes roaming the lobby at intermission and it was fascinating to gaze at all that gray hair and chubbiness and reflect on what used to be.
And that brings me to a brilliant photo book: The Sixties by Robert Altman. Here we are in our glory days, with our long hair, sideburns, micro-minis, tight skin, heavy eye make-up and all our idols. Here are Jane and Peter Fonda, Santana, Jess Colin Young, Tiny Tim and the Rolling Stones. In their prime! Jerry Garcia is alive and young. Chuck Berry is duck walking across the stage and Tina Turner is wearing a see-through crocheted outfit.
We are protesting the war - not the current one, but the last one. The one in Viet Nam. We are caring activists, effecting change.
We are going to concerts by the thousands, wearing our afros and cool shades. We are dancing. Naked.
How sad that time changes and we are now old folks milling about the lobby of a ritzy theatre trying to recapture some of those days through the music of The Four Seasons. How lucky we are that Robert Altman was there with his camera to capture us in our prime!
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