As I See it Giving Mick a Hand January 2007

by Jacqueline Irwin

And that red bra! That must have cost some busty woman a small fortune if she paid for the fabric by the yard.

Writer perk! Diane, one of the sales people for oneten Magazine, passed out complimentary tickets to everyone in the office who was willing to go see the Rolling Stones at McAfee Coliseum in Oakland. It was finally my chance to see Mick Jagger and the gang live and in person.

Let me preface this story by saying that not long ago I had a dream about Mick. I was enjoying his performance but the music was too loud. I reasoned that if I sat behind the speakers I could enjoy the concert without compromising my hearing.

I made my way to the front of the crowd and perched on the edge of the stage. Mick noticed me, came over, and began talking to me right in the middle of his performance. I pointed out to him that he was ignoring an audience of about 20,000 fans. I said that we could talk later and advised him to finish his show. Unfortunately, we never finished our conversation because I awoke before it could happen.

So when Diane offered the tickets I just knew this was my chance for my dream to come true.

Our adventure began when my husband, Jeff, and I reached the coliseum. The crowd was thick. I couldn’t help noticing that many of the intense fans were older than I — a fact which I secretly enjoyed. The last time we took our kids to Six Flags Marine World I noticed that I was one of the oldest people in the place, which left me depressed for weeks.

Our seats were in the 300s which apparently corresponded to the elevation. By the time we had climbed numerous flights of stairs and a ramp that seemed to go to the moon, we had reached the tip-top of the stadium. In fact, we were so high that the smells of the mentholatum and marijuana rising from the frenzied fans below were making me dizzy. I was glad the Goodyear Blimp wasn’t covering the event because it would have blocked our view. It was then that I realized my chances of sitting on the edge of the stage and having a casual conversation with Mick Jagger were slim to none.

On the other hand, we had a gorgeous view over our shoulders of the twinkling lights illuminating the City of Oakland and the planes lining up, seemingly at eye-level, for landing at the Oakland Airport.

Unfortunately, from our position in the sky Mick seemed the size of a flea as he hopped about on the stage far below us. Even so, I must say that Mick has the moves. I felt like I was burning calories just by being in the stadium with him. I suddenly realized that he could make a fortune marketing exercise videos. I would pay to share in some of those moves!

I didn’t realize that women still threw their undergarments on stage. I knew that sort of thing use to happen at Julio Iglesias concerts, but for Mick Jagger? In 2006?

It was also surprising to see the size of some of the undergarments that were being tossed. In fact, it took me a moment to register that those big white things that sometimes nearly knocked Mick over were, in fact, women’s panties.

And that red bra! That must have cost some busty woman a small fortune if she paid for the fabric by the yard. I felt sorry for the fans near the woman who was now standing without the proper equipment to hold her in check. Those things could be dangerous in a mosh pit!  

Another idea just popped into my head! Mick could open his own lingerie stand featuring artifacts collected during his performances. He could set up a little shop at the exit of his venues and sell back to the fans the very undergarments that they had recently thrown onto the stage. They could then throw those same unmentionables at Bob Dylan or Paul Simon in some future inappropriate outburst of adulation.

I’m still hoping to finish my conversation with Mick some day that I began in that dream. Not only could I offer to give him a hand in implementing the income-generating ideas I’ve been describing, but I would love to see his face plastered across the front of our magazine. It would be the interview of a lifetime!

With only six-degrees of separation I must know someone who knows someone who can get me in touch with Mick. °

Jacqueline Irwin
Associate Editor
jacki@110mag.com