We’d been advised by Ticketek that there were several events taking place that same night and to allow extra time. There were temporary signs up advising drivers to avoid the precinct due to expected traffic delays, so I was anticipating mental traffic conditions; as we had to stop for petrol, I was expecting to miss the first part of the show.
“Wow, that’s a first,” I said as we pulled up at a red stop light. We were just metres away from Rod Laver Arena and we’d managed to catch at least 20 green lights over the 30 odd kilometres we’d just travelled, including one of the busiest streets in the city. A good omen, I thought. The gods continued to smile on us, for after our dream run, we drove straight into the car park, using the prepaid ticket I’d bought when I purchased the concert tickets. We had 20 minutes to spare.
Poppet, ‘Daddy’ and I took our seats. We were centre stage and the second row from the front. I’d never been this close to the stage before and I wondered if I’d done the right thing, spending all that money. I wasn’t sure we’d see them properly because of their close proximity and I wondered if we’d be blasted. We’d seen them in 2010 at Rod Laver Arena, sitting five rows from the front. That was terrific, but this was a completely new perspective.
“Will they play ‘Take it to the Limit’,” Poppet asked eagerly. “What about, ‘Peaceful Easy Feeling’?”
“We’ll just have to wait and see,” I replied, looking at my daughter’s eyes that were sparkling with excitement.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the sense of anticipation was palpable. I’d quite forgotten that behind us were around 14,000 people and when they started to cheer and clap, the sound was thunderous.
“Here we go, Poppet,” I said to my daughter, excitedly. Dark figures moved onto the stage, and then the lights went up. There they were, Don Henley and Glenn Frey, the founders of the Eagles. Over 40 years, they’ve created such a powerful brand through their sharp business acumen and astute commercial decisions. Poppet doesn’t care about any of this though; she just adores them and their music; music they’ve created that is timeless and enjoyed by millions of people, across many generations. We cheered madly.
Poppet sat very still at first taking it all in, listening to their stories as they shared their history, then as the rest of the band took to the stage, she started to rock along with the rest of us. She knows the words to all the songs and was thrilled to be able to sing along. As it is with Down syndrome though, she is always one beat behind, not that that bothers her, (or us).
She’s quite at home amongst thousands of cheering people at concerts, even more so when it’s her favourite-ever band. “The Eagles are the best,” she reminds us constantly. She views each member of the band as a personal friend, especially ‘beautiful Timothy’, who plays the bass and sings two ballads that are favourites.
In 2010, we thought it would be their last concert and at the end, we felt sad to think we’d never see them again. These men have become so familiar to us, through their songs and their ‘Farewell 1 Tour’ DVD, which Poppet has watched hundreds of times. I stood her up on her seat at the end of that concert and together, we waved like crazy.
As each member of the band walked across the stage acknowledging their fans, Timothy spotted this little eight-year old and stopped to wave at her. The others joined in. My partner and I were beside ourselves with excitement for we appreciated the rarity of this moment. Poppet simply viewed this as something friends do to each other.
In 2015, our seats were so close we could hear the band members talking to each other, ‘off-mic’ and could even hear them plugging leads into their guitars. We could see every detail of their instruments, clothing and faces and they could see us, thanks to the reflection of the stage lighting.
It was Timothy B Schmidt I first saw looking at Poppet; he did so several times over the span of the evening. Other members of the band also glanced our way periodically. Could I be so presumptive as to expect them to remember Poppet from five years ago, I thought. Timothy really did look as if he was trying to place Poppet’s face.
After almost three hours, the band played their final song, leaving the stage to a crowd, determined to not let the show end. The house lights came up whilst we were cheering and clapping. Our enthusiasm was interrupted by an official-looking man, dressed in black with an earpiece and identification hanging from his lanyard. He reached between two people in the front row and held something out to Poppet.
Puzzled, she took the gift whilst my partner and I realised what it was. “From the band,” he said with a smile. Poppet had been given a set of drumsticks and a small packet of guitar picks. The sticks had been used by Scott Crago, who is the long-standing percussionist with the band; he may not be an ‘Eagle proper’, but he’s my favourite because he usually smiles a lot when playing. They were dented and rough, which gave a good indication as to the work out they’d had that night. The picks each had the Eagles insignia, each one with the name of one of the Eagles.
“Thank you so much,” we said, in unison. My partner and I were touched by this generosity. Someone had acknowledged Poppet and thought to give her these precious gifts. Had they given these to her because she was probably the youngest (and prettiest) person, among a sea of mostly grey-haired fans, or was it because she has Down syndrome? I guess it doesn’t matter, although I felt a little embarrassed that we’d been singled out, but immensely happy for Poppet. The people either side of us and in front of us were as surprised as we were.
As the lights dimmed once again for an encore, Poppet gave me her treasures to put in my bag. She knew they were coming back. Several songs later, Don Henley finished the show with a special rendition of ‘Desperado’. The house lights came up again. I felt a little sad knowing that we won’t have a chance to see the Eagles again. I’d read they view this tour, consisting of almost two years on the road, as their last. This time I was saying ‘farewell’.
Just as they did in 2010, the men walked around the stage waving and I imagine, taking in the adoration of the crowd. As he walked across the stage, Timothy stopped right in front of us, stepped over the front of the stage and squatted down right in front of Poppet. Putting his hand in his pocket, he pulled out his guitar pick and reached out to give it to the security guard. He pointed to Poppet, “This is for that girl there,” he said.
My partner and I were speechless. The pick was passed across to Poppet, who clutched this treasure in her hand. We thanked Timothy profusely, although it didn’t seem enough.
As the rest of the band headed towards the exit, Glenn said something to Don. Don nodded and walked back towards his drum kit. Turning around we could see he held his drumsticks. Again, the security guard was asked to pass the gift to Poppet, who by now was completely overwhelmed, (as were we). I looked Glenn right in the eyes and thanked him, as he and Don waved to us. Then they were gone. For most people in that crowd, it would have been such an anticlimax. For us, we had very special mementos to keep alive, our excitement.
As the thousands of people left the arena, the people seated close to us stayed behind to look at the gifts and talk about the show. In a moment of comparative silence, Poppet, reflecting on her evening said, “I’ve got lots of things,” which made everyone laugh.
Poppet doesn’t understand the enormity of this experience. This band must have played to hundreds of thousands of people and yet, on one particular evening, they singled out and acknowledged one of those audience members. Yes, my special girl, you do have lots of things, none the least the ability to bring out the best in people.