I don't usually write reviews of shows, but I went to the big 4th bash along the River Charles in Boston, and I wanted to write a little bit about it. I went to Greenfield to see my family, and I was flying out of Boston so I would have a better chance of getting my bass on the airplane (I'm a jazz cat). It was a good chance to hang with Straz, and I like Boston, so I planned to just hang on the 4th in that old Colonial city. When my Sister found out that I was going to be in Boston, she said that I had to go to the big Boston Pops and fireworks show down by the river. Well, I guess I mind my big Sister, because Straz and I found ourselves walking along the river with the crowds.

As we got closer to Keith and the boys, the crowd got denser. We were getting there about 5pm, and we were getting to the area where you had to get there about 4am to stake out your space. When we got right to the bandshell, it was a fenced off area. They were allowing people in, but you'd be stupid to go in, ALL the places had been taken since before dawn. But, I figured, "hey, I'm the human laminate, let's see what happens." I figured I just waltz in (there wasn't really room to waltz, but you get the idea) 15 hours late and get the best seat in the house. I think I would find that sense of entitlement really unpleasant on someone who didn't carry it as well as me. I think I would find it disgusting on anyone that wasn't me.

Several people recognized me, but they didn't say, "Hey, Penn, we have a place for you," so we kept fighting our way through the crowd. It was awful; we had to climb over blankets and people. It was dense. There were more people than Woodstock and we were right up in the front. Finally, recognition, but it was for Straz. Some MIT geek recognized Straz. He'd been there since dawn, and he had a great place. He said there was room for us. Score one for Straz. There was a nice lawn chair for me, and I sat down and took a little nap. A summer day, surrounded by people and napping. Just wonderful. There was a sign up for "Yahoo Auction Winners" and we wanted to explore after my nap, so we disrupted everyone and climbed over people to the sign. We met the guy from Yahoo. Yahoo had auctioned a place for charity, and they sent someone to hold places in the middle of the night. It went for 200 bucks. What a deal. We talked and joked with them. They didn't offer us any of the space. But, then - MORNING DJs. The mother load. They were from WORC in Worcester. They did the morning "zoo" show. They had Hawaiian shirts and loud hats on. They were thrilled to see me. We talked and they invited us to where they had staked out in the middle of the night, "Club Paradise." They had chairs, and beverages, and food. I went back and then Straz joined me. They took pictures and gave me lots of food and drink. I kept guy food in my right hand to look like I was a regular guy, and then ate like a girl with my left hand. Cheeze-Its in the right, rice cakes in the left. No one's going to catch me dieting. They had cold Sprite and a hat for my head. They sat on the ground and gave Straz and I the chairs (we let his pregnant wife keep her chair). As people came up to get their picture taken with me, I said, "Will pose for food" and made them bring snacks into Club Paradise. We were illin' and chillin' like little Bobby Dylan. I had a perfect view, a place to sit, food, beverage, and I didn't have to pee at all. The weather was perfect. My big Sister was right; it was the place to be.

I'm not going to go into detail except to say it was a perfect show. Just perfect. What I loved about it was how it broke down demographics. It wasn't a show for people who act disgusted and can't stand some kind of music. It was a show for Americans. Real Americans that like the fact that we're everybody. We had a kick ass symphony. We had a military horn band. We had Debbie Reynolds singing songs for "her generation" which was, happily, a lie. She was singing songs for everyone. She sang "Singing in the Rain" and killed, even more so because she wasn't. It was perfect weather. Peter Jennings came out and read pieces by Jefferson, Locke, MLK, the usual superstars of freedom. While he read, Keith kicked it, and this woman sang wonderful gospel. Now, I'm not fond of gospel, but it was the gospel of civil rights and she sure could sing like ringing a bell. We were close enough that we could hear the orchestra mostly from the band shell and not from the PA, and that rocked. I loved watching the basses all bowing in unison. "A bass with a bow, the drummer relaxes and waits between shows for his cinnamon girl."

Right after Peter, patriotism and gospel, Cyndi Lauper came out and really rocked the house. She had a trumpet player from the orchestra and she was rubbing her ass against Keith Lockart and he conducted in a VERY non-Fieldler way. He was bumping and rocking and she was rocking the house. Man, it was great to see all this stuff mixed up. Hey Canada, this is what a free country looks like, it ain't no goddamn mosaic, it's a melting pot with everyone rolling in the boil. Cyndi climbed on camera stands and ran into the audience and hit all her marks while really looking spontaneous. I tell you, she stole "We Are the World" and she still kicking. And Keith, he's really good. I kept remembering us doing the PBS show with him. He's a showman, and an artist. I dig him. I hope in my lifetime, there's a really sexy female pop star that conducts a symphony orchestra while she sings. It would rock the house.

Who could follow Cyndi? Arlo Guthrie. His long gray hair way down his back. He sang "City of New Orleans," and his Dad's "This Land is Your Land." He stopped the band and talked a little. He didn't make a Woodstock joke and that bummed me, but he was great. "On the other side, it didn't say nothing. That sign was made for you and me." He did some world peace hippy stuff saying that "From California to the New York highway" didn't mean it had to go in that direction, it could go all the way around the long way . . . of course, that would leave us out," it was a nice hunk.

We rounded it off with the "singing State Trooper" who had opened the whole shebang with the National Anthem (just the first verse, not the P&T no god verse), came back on and we all sang a lot of songs together. Real patriotic songs. It was way fun to hear all those voices, with some of us out of tune, making it really thick. The people who had been there since dawn, the entitled Straz and Penn, really sang it out.

Keith kicked off the 1812 overture, which as David points out, has very little to do with American Independence, but celebrating anyone kicking ass on the French is a good thing. The army was there with cannons and they did the cannon part. It was loud, and stunning. Really stirring stuff, with BIG fireworks at the end over the Charles River. All that was missing was "Anarchy in the USA," but if they did these shows just for me, they might cut down their audience to below a half a million.

The band packed up and we watched a half hour of amazing fireworks. They turned out the lights and we stood in the dark. Straz and I passed up a great chance to cuddle, but those around us did not. One of the DJs pointed out that the song that was missing from the display was "Dirty Water. " How could they miss that? It rocks and it mentions the River Charles," "with muggers, buggers, and thieves . . . ah, but they're cool people." I was, as always bummed that they didn't set them all off at once. But, maybe I'm in the minority that would like my kicks below the waistline, Sunshine, in 1 minute instead of 30. But, if I ever have a few hundred grand in disposable income (like I win a freedom prize), I'm going to have someone really light up the sky. Show that America really is quantity not quality.

So, that was it. We walked a few blocks to our car in a crowd of really happy Americans. It was a great day. Man, freedom. We just need the whole world to have it. Imagine the celebration then, huh? I think we could have used another 40 or 50 acts - even more varied than we have.

And fire all of our guns at once and explode into space!

Penn