Can't you hear my heart beat...

A little to my right and four rows up, the heavy set man was sitting in one of the portable lawn chairs that we all have now. You know – it slides out of a bag and then pops up. His hunting camouflage cap head bobbed to the music. His wife beside him, with her bleached reddish hair, also bobbed in time with his. In fact everyone around these two bobbed to the rhythm that washed over the park.

It seemed that the entire population of Baby Boomers and their elders that still could bob – had arrived to listen to oldies. This is all happening in the Del Crary Park, Peterborough. In fact there may well have been 6000 – 7000 people splayed out over the lawn in their chairs to take part in the first Festival of Lights in Peterborough.

Last night was the first big concert featuring “Peter Noone” and the “Herman’s Hermits”. Almost another “Woodstock” happening for us old guys, except that it is 8:00 PM at night and it is much cooler. The average age sitting around us was about 60 – but many young people were there – teens actually. Teens brought by their grandparents to listen to “hot music” of their teenage years.

There was a kind of comedy for me… a strangeness to the whole thing really. All around me the entire crowd was singing with the performers on stage. Everyone around me knew the words – really old words that sifted up through tired memory banks to tickle aging hearts again.

Where we were sitting, near the center of the audience, people shuffled by on walkers a number of times. In one case a 60+ year old lady was leading her mom to the wash room – pulling along her walker. In other cases the 60+ year old were on their own walkers. In many cases the audience participants were a wee bit over weight and solidly fitting their fold up lawn chairs.

Some attendees last night turned heads as they sauntered by. Like the young guy that was about 18 – 20 years old – who likely has never heard of Herman’s Hermits. He had on a white T-shirt with words written across the front. His skimpy blonde beard that covered his chin didn’t yet have any strength to it. His page boy hair cut looked rather effeminate along with his dark eye shadow that completely circled each eye – the raccoon look for sure. His net, mauve gloves that went up his arms to his elbows didn’t really match the white T-shirt and jeans.

Along with the other oldies of the Baby Boom generation we were not sure if he was a she – or she was a he…. she-s don’t usually have beards though. Heads turned for sure wondering who his grandparents were.

The further comedy for me was the number of “church people” that I knew throughout the crowd. The next morning they would be singing praises to God dressed in their church finery – just twelve hours after the head bobbing ended.

So what is the rage last evening…?
Well the guy, Peter Noone, began his career singing these songs in 1964, as a 15 year old, as the lead singer of Herman’s Hermits – in fact as Herman. How he became “Herman” with a very full name of “Peter Blair Denis Bernard Noone” – I have yet to find out – except perhaps that it was a band already formed. (reference below…) And if you do the math – Peter is around 58 years old – our age – and you can hear the words to the songs.

As a minister, a man of the cloth in Peterborough, I looked around to find a few of my fellow ‘men and women of the cloth’, bobbing their heads with me. It was then that I realized that maybe this would be like heaven for us oldies. Heaven is real and may be some of us have tickets for in the next few years. We are closer to the end of part of the old childhood prayer of, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep… and if I died before I wake… I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

Funny reflections for me included the fact that this concert wouldn’t work down the road in Scarborough, Ontario or most parts of Toronto – it was a little too white from our middle class worlds of long ago.

A great reflection for me is that I love people and love being with people of all kinds. That part of heaven I will love. They won’t all be like me… but we will be with each other and the One that runs heaven. The heavy set man with the hunting camouflage cap and his reddish haired wife will be there – I think they are Baptists. The grey haired guy that was sitting to my left and one row forward is a Catholic. I think he is planning on being there as well.

Lots to think about today – my day of rest and the day that I work…

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Peter Noone - http://www.peternoone.com/about/index.html

Festival of Lights - http://www.festivaloflights.ca/

Herman’s Hermits favorites…sing along to yourself…

CAN'T YOU HEAR MY HEARTBEAT (Carter/Lewis)
Every time I see you lookin' my way
Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?
In the car or walking down the highway
Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?

When you move up closer to me
I get a feelin' that's ooo-wee
Can't you hear the poundin' of my heartbeat
'cause you're the one I love, you're the one I love

When I feel you put your arms around me
Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?
Then I'm glad, I'm mighty glad I found you
Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?

When you asked me to meet your Ma
I knew that baby, we'd be going far
Can't you hear the poundin' of my heartbeat?
'cause you're the one I love, you're the one I love
------ rhythm guitar ------

All my friends are cryin' out to meet you
Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?
Now's the time to go and see the preacher
Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?

Wedding bells are gonna chime
Baby, baby, you're gonna be mine
Can't you hear the poundin' of my heartbeat
'cause you're the one I love, you're the one I love

Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?
Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?
Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?

I'M HENRY THE VIII, I AM (Murray/Weston)
I'm Henry the eighth I am
Henry the eighth I am, I am
I got married to the widow next door
She's been married seven times before
And every one was an Henry (Henry)
She wouldn't have a Willy or a Sam (no Sam)
I'm her eighth old man,
I'm Henry Henry the eighth I am

Second verse same as the first

I'm Henry the eighth I am
Henry the eighth I am, I am
I got married to the widow next door
She's been married seven times before
And every one was an Henry (Henry)
She wouldn't have a Willy or a Sam (no Sam
I'm her eighth old man,
I'm Henry Henry the eighth I am

------ lead guitar ------

I'm Henry the eighth I am
Henry the eighth I am, I am
I got married to the widow next door
She's been married seven times before
And every one was an Henry (Henry)
She wouldn't have a Willy or a Sam (no Sam)
I'm her eighth old man,
I'm Henry Henry the eighth I am

H-E-N-R-Y Henry (Henry)
Henry (Henry)
Henry the eighth I am,
I am Henry the eighth I am

Yeah!