On September 15, 1994 while stationed in Italy I was invited by some friends to attend an outdoor concert put on by a band called Pink Floyd. Having turned 30 years of age just a few months previously and unsure of what life after 30 might bring, I decided to go. My buddies and I managed to get off work a little early that afternoon, changed into civilian clothes and hopped into the Jeep for the hour long drive north to Udine. Arriving at the Stadio Friuli a few hours before show time, we grabbed a bite to eat at a nearby trattoria, washing it down with a few beers of course.
Our spirits quickly dampened as we left the restaurant realizing it had started to rain. Not to be discouraged, we happily waited in line to enter the uncovered stadium as the sun set behind the dark, drizzling clouds. Once inside, we raised our spirits a bit more with a couple cold beers, hardly wondering if the rain would stop. After another hour of waiting and damn near soaked to the bone, I recall a feeling of disappointment starting to come over me when a melodic strum of a guitar lept from the dark stage, piercing the conversations around me. I looked to the heavens while the mysterious guitar continued singing poetically and marveled at the parting of the clouds, revealing an almost full moon and ending the falling rain when suddenly the stage erupted with lights, drums, and rock and roll.
Hands down, that was the best concert I’ve ever attended. Shine on you crazy diamond. Sgt Hook out.
Posted by Hook @ 0356 zulu | | Permalink
This post is filed under: La Vita Dolce & Sound of Hook
