I'm pretty sure I saw the original "Star Wars" in the summer of 1977...I think?

Last night, Terry and I were at Blossom Music Center to hear the Cleveland Orchestra play the music of John Williams, he of movie soundtrack composing fame. We had a wonderful time, but then, how couldn't we? It was John Williams. And the Cleveland Orchestra. Conducted by the amazing Sarah Hicks. Outside on a late summer evening.

From "Jaws" and  "E.T." to "Raiders of the Lost Ark" and "Jurassic Park," I associate Mr. Williams' music with wonderful memories from many stages of my life.

I remember, for example, being awed by his "Star Wars" film score when I saw the movie in 1977 at the Great Lakes Mall cinema complex in Mentor, Ohio.

Or at least I think I remember that. At this point in my existence, nearly 57 years on, I've come to realize that certain of my memories are not memories at all, but rather things I only believe to have happened.

I know this because I will relay anecdotes from my past and find myself being corrected by a friend who was there or (in the case of my high school athletic career) a newspaper article telling a different story.

So when I say I think I saw "Star Wars" in the theater, it's either something that really happened or something I wish had happened. I can't be sure which.

Whatever the case, my memory is that I went with the Wuicik family, our neighbors from across the street. The boys Jason and Billy were constant companions in my early years, and I definitely do remember going with them and their mom to the drive-in to see "Smokey and the Bandit."

Assuming the "Star Wars" thing also really happened, it probably would have been only the second or third time in my life I had been in a movie theater. We weren't a movie-going family, though I do remember – or again, believe I remember – my mom taking me to see Disney's "Escape to Witch Mountain" in 1975 or '76, my first theater experience.

My memory of "Star Wars" (real or not) is having been blown away by the visuals, sound, and music. It was unlike any other entertainment available at the time.

I do know for a fact I saw "Empire Strikes Back" in that same theater in 1979, because I vividly recall seeing people dressed up in Darth Vader and Chewbacca costumes in the lobby.

OK, maybe saying I know that "for a fact" is a little strong. But I am more confident that one actually happened.

Or at least I think I am. Who can say?

Tonight we will be among the old people gathered to listen to (and cheer for) Men at Work, Toto and Christopher Cross

 

Only one of these original members of Men at Work will be onstage this evening at Blossom Music Center.

I have long since passed the age when you fret over the fact that the music you listened to as a teenager is now regularly played on "oldies" stations. That happened years ago.

On the spectrum of musical fandom, I'm at the point where I willingly attend cheesy, nostalgia-laden reunion concerts. I revel in being surrounded by other mid- to late-middle-aged people whose enthusiasm is perhaps muted compared with what it once was but who can still be described as "spirited."

I also make no apologies that the average age of the crowd at the concert I'll be attending tonight (along with my brother Mark and sister Debbie) is likely to be older than 50 and possibly pushing 60.

That's the demographic I expect will turn up at Blossom Music Center in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, this evening for a triple bill featuring 80s acts Men at Work, Toto and Christopher Cross.

I suspect most in the audience will be there because they're particular fans of one of those three bands. For Mark and me, anyway, the clear headliner is Men at Work.

I have been a pretty ardent MAW fan since 1983, when the first 45 I ever bought was their single "Down Under" and the first cassette I ever purchased was their album "Business as Usual." (Northeast Ohioans will appreciate the fact that I bought both of these items at Zayre's.)

The thing is, as is so often the case when bands tour decades beyond the peak of their popularity, the group performing tonight under the name "Men at Work" only has one original member. That would be lead singer and guitarist Colin Hay.

Mark (along with his son and my nephew Mark) and I have seen Colin perform live several times as a solo artist, and we saw this incarnation of Men at Work play a few years ago. You can say we're fans.

Don't get me wrong, I'm also looking forward to hearing Toto play its hits, notably "Africa" and "Rosanna." And there's no doubting the talent Christopher Cross brings to the stage with his "Sailing," "Ride Like the Wind" and "Arthur's Theme."

But I'm there for the Men, who actually now include two women. One is a wonderful musician named Scheila Gonzalez, who plays saxophone, flute and keyboards in a way that eerily recreates the sound and vibe of the late Greg Ham, Men at Work's original multi-instrumentalist. (NOTE: Since writing this, I've come to find out Scheila won't be there tonight, but is instead touring with Weird Al Yankovic. Darn.)

The other is Cecilia Noël, Colin's wife and a talented singer and performer in her own right.

We'll have a good time, I have no doubt. It will be 2-3 hours of letting the music take me back to when I was much younger and much dumber. And also skinnier. With more hair.

You couldn't pay me to actually go back to that era of my life and live it again, but I don't mind taking a temporary trip back in time. I look forward to the whole thing.

As long as the bands don't play too long, of course. I need to get home and get my sleep, you know.

As personal tech devices become more sophisticated, don't forget the value of shared entertainment experiences

This was the scene from our pavilion seats for a recent screening of Raiders of the Lost Ark, with the Cleveland Orchestra performing the film score live.

One of my favorite things about having a smartphone is that it allows me, with just a pair of earphones, to listen to music, watch a movie, and even check out a televised sporting event through our DirectTV streaming service.

Things that used to require large pieces of equipment when I was growing up (a theatre screen, a TV, a VCR, a stereo, etc.) are now available for personal consumption thanks to the miracle of the iPhone/Android. No one else needs to see or hear what I'm seeing or hearing.

Which has its advantages, of course, especially when you're traveling.

But along with all of this miniaturization and personalization also comes increased isolation.

As technology advances, so too does the ability for people to live – almost literally – in their own little worlds. Opportunities for social interaction decrease, which many of the introverts among us will celebrate but which can also have real (and negative) long-term effects on our collective emotional and psychological wellbeing.

This was brought home to me last month when Terry, Jack, our family friend Josie and I all spent a Saturday evening at Blossom Music Center watching the movie "Raiders of the Lost Ark" while the Cleveland Orchestra played the background music in sync with the film.

I would guess I've seen Raiders in its entirety 10-15 times, but this most recent experience was the first time I had seen it with a crowd of people since I originally watched it in the theatre in 1981.

And it was wonderful. Far more enjoyable than watching it alone in my living room.

Part of the reason was that Sarah Hicks, the orchestra's guest conductor, encouraged the several thousand of us in attendance to interact with the movie. She pushed us to clap for the heroes, boo the villains and generally enjoy the movie viscerally as I would say Steven Spielberg originally intended us to.

It made the whole thing so much more fun. We would clap whenever Indiana Jones got himself out of a particularly tight situation. We would boo and hiss whenever one of the Nazis came onto the screen. And we would laugh wholeheartedly whenever Indy would make one of his understated jokes or amusing observations.

It made me realize how seldom I watch movies in the theatre now. There is something about the shared experience of a concert or a film that adds to my enjoyment of it. As I've increasingly relied on my phone to serve as a primary source of entertainment, I have somehow managed to forget that.

Art, in whatever form you consume it, is meant to have a social component. Every once in a while, put down the phone and get to your local cinema or concert hall for some shared fun.

I don't think you'll regret it.

I am whatever level of nerd it is that would buy and wear this shirt

About a month ago, I was seated on the lawn of Blossom Music Center alongside Terry, Elissa and Mark waiting for the start of a concert by the amazing Cleveland Orchestra.

If you don't know much about classical music, you might wonder how it is that Cleveland has (and has had for many decades) one of the world's great symphony orchestras. It's a long story, but this ensemble is in many ways as good as it gets, and we in Northeast Ohio have them right in our backyard.

I am a Cleveland Orchestra subscriber, though I've had to scale back the number of concerts I attend for the upcoming classical season, given the number of conflicts there are with my sports PA announcing duties.

This particular concert wasn't part of my subscription, but we had just seen the Orchestra perform along to a showing of the movie "Jurassic Park" at Blossom a couple of weeks earlier and wanted to return for a "proper" classical presentation. So we bought these tickets separately.

The program that evening consisted of a short work by the relatively unknown Japanese composer Yasushi Akutagawa, the Shostakovich Cello Concerto No. 1 (performed by the remarkably talented Zlatomir Fung), and the main event for me and many others in the crowd: Debussy's "La Mer."

Clause Debussy is my favorite composer, or at least I think he is. Maurice Ravel is a pretty close second, and sometimes I can't say for sure whose music I really prefer.

For Christmas, Terry bought me a 33-CD set of Debussy's complete works that took more than a month of constant listening to get through. I loved all of it.

Anyway, we were sitting in lawn/beach chairs enjoying a nice pre-concert picnic spread when it occurred to me that the only bit of classical music "merch" I owned was a pair of socks imprinted with J.S. Bach's face. "Are there classical music t-shirts?" I wondered to myself.

I took out my phone and Googled "classical music shirts," and of course there was a wide selection.

I searched specifically for a Debussy shirt, and when I came across the one pictured above, I knew instantly it was the one I wanted and ordered it on the spot.

I just love this shirt. Nothing complex about it. No photo of the great man himself, just his name in college football-style letters plastered across the front.

And yes, I chose that heather purple color. For whatever reason, I really felt it took the shirt from good to great.

"Who would wear something like that?" you might ask. And the answer is me. I am wearing it at this very moment, as I type these words.

If you're going to own a t-shirt like this, you have to embrace it. There can be zero hesitation to be branded for what you really are: a Grade A, first-class nerd.

I wear them (the shirt and the label) proudly.