I believed it was a requirement of good parenting to take my children to see Van Halen live in concert.  I can’t even write that sentence without smirking.

Truth be told, I wanted to see Van Halen.  The last time I saw them was in 1978 when, as a little-known garage band, they opened for Black Sabbath.  Now while I have not changed much since 1978, those guys have really aged.

Again, the smirk escapes.

Despite the passage of time, Van Halen continues to rock.  I have the ruptured eardrums to prove it.

I was “sitting” (No one ever sits during a Van Halen concert.  Your seat number is just a suggestion.) with my 15-year-old daughter on one side of the stage while Beloved Spouse was sitting with our 16-year-old son on the other.  We could see everything and if we wanted a close-up, there was always the jumbo screen.

The concert setting had a main stage and an “s” curve walkway that started about two stories above Alex Van Halen’s drum kit and curved down and out into the floor seating.  The show started with the spotlight hitting David Lee Roth standing at the very top of the “s” waving an enormous red flag.

Why a red flag?  I do not know.  I suspect it is one of those Stupid Guy Things.  Those of us who are of the female persuasion are constantly dumbfounded by various testosterone-driven activities and usually, we have to settle for the answer that it is a SGT.  It explains a lot.

The opening song was You Really Got Me and we were off to the races.

David Lee Roth’s vocals were of a surprisingly good quality.  He may have tamed down his strut a bit but for the most part, he was the David Lee of old.  He can’t get through more than five minutes of any given day without exposing his chest and so we saw plenty of that and it just didn’t look real.  He looked like a G.I. Joe doll with a belly button.   It was a little disturbing.

But he sent the crowd into a rowdy frenzy with the loudest cheers coming when he asked how we were doing in Portland, Oregon.  We were so proud of him for remembering where he was.

The song list covered the Roth-era hits:  I’m the One, Runnin’ With the Devil, Romeo Delight, Somebody Get Me a Doctor, Beautiful Girls, Dance the Night Away, Atomic Punk, Everybody Wants Some, So This is Love?, Mean Street, Pretty Woman, Unchained, I’ll Wait, And the Cradle Will Rock, Hot for Teacher, Little Dreamer, Little Guitars, Jamie’s Cryin’, Ice Cream Man, Panama and Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love.   The encore was, of course, Jump.   Not a bad set, huh?

Sometime during the concert, I acquired a boyfriend.  He was sitting behind my daughter and every time a new song started, he would tap on my shoulder and make me give him a high-five or do that knuckle-to-knuckle SGT thing.  I complied because I was afraid.  I had my daughter there to protect and even without her name tattooed on my shoulder like Eddie has “Wolfgang” on his, I still do that mom thing.

Alex Van Halen remains a drum god.  Pounding away, drum sticks a blur, he anchored the music.  I don’t know why rock drummers, if they are lucky to survive long enough, all start to look like Charlie Watts, the drummer for The Rolling Stones.  It could be a Rock Law or a Biblical prophesy but I’m pretty sure it’s another one of those SGTs. 

The big question of the tour was the bass player.  Michael Anthony was tossed for some kid named Wolfgang and, oh, yeah; his last name is Van Halen.

I thought he did a fine job.  Those Anthony bass rifts are challenging and Wolfie appeared to cover them well.  He looks just like his mom, Valerie Bertinelli and was born about a month after my own son but he held his own and then some.  The interplay between Wolfie and his dad, Eddie was touching at times and added a poignant tone to the evening.  The torch was being passed. 

Wolfie is bigger than his dad like most kids are.  I don’t know if it’s because today’s kids are receiving better nutrition or if it’s because us parents are shrinking but I suspect they are doing it on purpose out of spite.  They are still quite bitter over being fed those strained peas so they grow bigger just so they can have all the cookies they want.

And then, there was Eddie. 

Wearing only camouflage pants and red high-tops (de rigueur SGT fashion,) he bounced from one side of the stage to the other.  His smile never died as he did his split-leg jumps and threw The Pumping Fist of Rock, a prime example of SGT if you were looking for one.  He never missed a note and seemed to add several extra just for show.  The younger generations in the audience who are currently absorbed with the video game “Guitar Hero” were left with their mouths agape.  In that game when you mess up, you get this loud embarrassing “doink” sound instead of the correct note.  Eddie Van Halen was totally and completely doinkless.  On expert level.

He took the solo Eruption and turned it into a 20-minute long seismic event.  We…were not worthy.

I know they say there are no tears in heaven but I know when I get there and see Eddie Van Halen jam with Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan, I, for one, will weep.

Rock on.