March 1, 1972 (Wednesday)
New York, New York, U.S.A.
On March 1st 1972, Alf and I were sitting in my room wondering what to do that day. We had a few bucks in our pockets and decided to go to the only place where we could just walk around to have a good time, New York City. That afternoon, as we were walking past Jack Dempsey's restaurant, I happened to glance at a window poster advertising the group Badfinger. They would be playing that very evening at Carnegie Hall. "Badfinger Alf! Let's go see if we can get in." We were excited. These guys had the whole package, great rock and roll, great melodies, tight harmonies, great musicianship and several hit records. I really dug "No Matter What." It was one of my favorties tunes at the time. Whatever "it" was, Badfinger had it in spades. We went over to Carnegie Hall knowing there'd probably be scalpers plying their trade and that meant a shot at getting in. Tickets ranged from about four to six dollars, a tidy sum in those days. The problem was that we only had a few bucks. I turned to Alf to gauge his vibes but he was already way ahead of me. When in need... Panhandle! It took a while but we made the entrance fee and bounded up the stairs. The ushers pointed the way and we followed instructions climbing higher and higher, further and further away from the stage. Our seats were in the nose bleed section and from up there the stage looked like a postage stamp. This wasn't going to do at all. I saw Alf squirming. "Come on Davey, we can't sit here." We stepped out in the corridor only to be met by an usher who told us to go back to our seats but when his back was turned we ran down a flight of stairs to a lower level. Once there we were confronted by a female usher who told us we would have to go back upstairs. We turned and walked toward the stairs then opened a door and slipped inside. Now, from the balcony, we had a great view of the stage. The problem was that there were no extra seats and we knew that we'd be discovered and booted out. Going with the flow, we followed the railing to the end of the balcony, climbed over and brazenly hung jumped down to the lower level. The show was just starting, everyone was in their seats and Alf and I were going for broke. Amid the opening chorus we sauntered down the main aisle keeping our eyes peeled for empty seats. Right up front we saw two seats and plopped down in the third row. It was like seeing Badfinger play in their living room and they didn't disappoint, in fact they Rocked! And we sat there soaking up every note to every song they pounded out... When the show was over, we walked down to 42nd St., still reveling in the vibe. We had just enough money for a couple beers, then made our way over to the Lincoln Tunnel, stuck out a thumb and hitchhiked home. Yes, we hitchhiked through the Lincoln Tunnel. It was just a normal night in New York for me and Alf...
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