Posted by Seeing as how I was going to be spending the weekend in New York City (or at least very close to New York City) seeing a pair of Phil Lesh concerts at The Capitol Theatre in Port Chester, I figured I might as well head into the Big Apple a day or two early and enjoy what I could of the city. NYC is, after all, one of the entertainment capitals of the world and I was sure I could find something fun to spend my time on.
And I did: a free taping of the Colbert Report on November 6th, 2014, the day before the Phil Lesh run.
Seeing as how I had a whole afternoon to kill before taking my place in the Colbert lineup at 5pm to ensure I was an hour early for the 6pm taping (as instructed), I did a walkabout that led me directly past the Ed Sullivan Theatre, the home of David Letterman’s iconic Late Show. Velvet ropes on the sidewalk corralled a collection of fans that were hoping to score stand-by tickets for the show’s 2pm taping.
What the heck: | joined the line and whattya know, I got in.
I hadn’t seen Letterman since the early ’90’s – back when he was on NBC – and with barely six months until his retirement I was happy serendipity was giving me another chance to see Dave as he was winding down his epic late night run. And he had a pretty good lineup of guests scheduled too.
I think this might have been my only time sitting in the Ed Sullivan Theatre, and I did so with reverence. There are probably a lot of reasons why the old showroom could be considered hallowed ground, but none more than the fact that it was where The Beatles first performed in North America, and where Beatlemania (arguably) began. Forever ingrained in my mind is the shot of Mr. Sullivan on stage from that clip, looking into the camera with a stooped back and announcing: “Ladies and gentlemen, The Beatles!”
And now, finally, I was sharing that cosmic space. Sigh.
As I sat and marvelled (and continually sighed) one of the writers walked onstage and warmed up the crowd before big, tall David Letterman came out and told a few pre-show jokes and took some questions. And of course Paul Shaffer and his killer, killer band played a few songs, thrilling me to no end.
The first guest was Whoopi Goldberg, a lady worthy of much respect (she was on Star Trek after all) and she was fine. The last guest was Mapei, a Swedish-American singer who’s performance was like a bitter stain on my soul.
Oh, nothing against her personally or professionally, it’s just that she was following an appearance by the great, legendary, wizard-like Jimmy Page, who was on a book tour (of all things) and DID NOT PLAY THE GUITAR. I – like everyone else in the room – waited patiently for Mr. Page to finish his mouth-babble about the picture book his staff had doubtlessly thrown together in his name so he could then pick up a shiny black Gibson Les Paul and join the band for a song or two, at which point we would be thrilled and amazed by a performance by rock’s greatest humbucking riff-meister in an intimate setting that had direct ties to the greatest band of all time.
But he didn’t play.
I couldn’t believe it. When Letterman thanked him for coming and told us that Mapei was up next I almost rushed the stage in angry frustration. And if I thought for a moment that some – any – of the lost sheep around me would have joined my stage-storming crusade for truth, justice, and Rock and Roll I would have led the charge towards Mr. Page with pride, confident in the knowledge that despite my looming arrest I would clearly be doing The Right Thing, and that history (and Led Zeppelin fans worldwide) would absolve me.
But I knew they wouldn’t, those latte-sipping urban wannabe rebels that surrounded me, so I hunkered down and tried not to have an aneurism during Mapei’s song, which was so immeasurably less entertaining than Jimmy Page would have been that, well, it couldn’t be measured.
Luckily, at the Colbert taping a few hours later I had no idea who the guest was – had never heard of him – so I wasn’t completely devastated when he didn’t play the guitar either.
Todd Man Out 