They're giving me Excitations.

I'm so excited, I just can't hide it.

I'm about to lose control, and I think I like it.

The Beach Boys are playing the next town over in a few weeks.

Now, bear in mind, when I say "town" I don't mean, "Large Booming Metropolis With 15,000-Seat Stadium."

I mean, "town" as in John Mellencamp being born in a small one, and Bruce Springsteen having his hometown kind of town.

A town with a library, pre-schools, one high school and town selectmen-and women. A PTO, a weekly paper and a Starbucks which has only just come under construction.

And we'll have Fun Fun Fun till the First Selectman says It's Time to Stop Playing Because we're violating the 10:00 Noise Pollution Ordinance, or Till Daddy takes the T-bird away, whichever comes first.

I saw the Beach Boys, in 1986, I was 15 years old, and I was visiting my sister in Denver. We went with two of my Aunts (I'm guessing they were about 60 at the time) and they played to a wild throng of people numbering in the hundreds. Nineteen years ago. Please see previous post regarding bands playing well past their prime.

The Beach Boys were ultra-cool, in their day. My brother used to sing Surfer Girl to me, and when I hear it, I still feel nostalgic. How many of us have danced in the summer to Surfin' USA? (Hm...I sense some kind of Surfing/Summer theme going here...I wonder if that's a coincidence?) Even recently, I was thinking I should download Pet Sounds from Itunes, because it's still the quintessential sound of summer.

But like the black and white photos of my parents cavorting on the beach and in convertibles with their leather-tanned friends and cigarettes, that album managed to freeze a slice of youth like Ted Williams' head, which should never be unfrozen. I don't want to see the Beach Boys performing in a small town 40 years after their heyday any more than I want to see my mother today in that same strapless white bathingsuit, with coffee-colored skin and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. She quit smoking years ago, and for the past nearly thirty years, she goes to the beach looking like an eskimo, in long pants, long-sleeved shirt, big hat and sunglasses. Then, she wraps up in a towel and sits under an umbrella.

I think once a band has been on Behind the Music, it's time to hang up the guitars and get a condo in Palm Springs. There's a reason why the catchphrase from that show is..."but offstage, things were beginning to fall apart." Because they did.

If I see an ad in the town paper for "Local Home Run Derby featuring the Splendid Splinter, Ted Williams!" I'm moving.