Seated directly stage left, giddiness enveloped me as the lights dimmed and I saw Phil take the stage. While he's still a youthful (by classic rocker standards) 67 years-old, Phil gingerly made his way to his seat in front of a microphone at center stage. "Getting old is a bitch," he muttered as the applause from the crowd finally quieted. After multiple surgeries on his back and shoulder and nearing drinking himself to death, Collins' emerged from his deep depression and returned to touring aptly adopting the name "Not Dead Yet"for his tour. As his band struck up "Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now)", his show came to life...and so, too, did all my feelings.
Phil's setlist spanned the early days of my life ("Follow You Follow Me") to middle school "Something Happened on the Way to Heaven") to college ("Dance into the Light") and beyond ("You'll Be in My Heart"). Every melody resurrected memories of where I was when I first heard Phil's music: on the radio while swimming in our pool, in the hallways of my high school, from the static-filled speakers of my Pontiac Firebird while driving down Lake Shore Drive to my first job in radio. Suddenly, I was feeling more than just the two vodka sodas I downed before the show.
Too frail to play the drums let alone stand upright, Collins passed his drumsticks to his 17 year-old son, Nicholas. I don't know what you were doing at 17 years-old, but I had bad acne and played with model trains. My teenage years weren't kind to me. When it came time to introduce the band, the crowd eagerly anticipated Nicholas' introduction so much that Phil had to pause to let the crowd's roar drop to a low-roar. Phil told the story of his son paging through his entire catalog of music and finding one song he really enjoyed called "You Know What I Mean". With that, Nic moved from behind the drums and onto stage where he played the piano while dad sang. Every man in attendance that evening tried very hard to swallow the lump in their respective throats...some with more luck than others. I found myself questioning my purpose. While I've achieved so many of my goals, I took inventory of what was undone. I'm 41, never married, and have no children. These were all choices I made and never really challenged until...a Phil Collins concert?!? It's true. Even with the horns blaring during "Invisible Touch", my mind continued to churn through feelings of accomplishment, disappointment, fear, loneliness, and hope.
I used to dislike being sensitive. I thought it made me weak, but take away that single trait, and you take away the very essence of who I am. You take away my conscience, my ability to empathize, my intuition, my creativity, my deep appreciation of the little things, my vivid inner pain, my keen awareness to others pain and my passion for it all. Phil Collins....who knew?