Skip to main content

Captain Fantastic

“Captain Fantastic raised and regimented hardly a hero, just someone his mother might know.” - Bernie Taupin.

In this episode - Captain Fantastic . . .


 


1975 was my first full year of college; like most teens, music was my world. The ideals of our small midwestern town of Cuba, Illinois, were being reshaped by a record, at least for me.


For those who don't remember, 1975 was the year the album Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy was released; music by Elton John and lyrics by Bernie Taupin. Hundreds, maybe thousands of hours were spent with that album spinning on turntables while studying that grotesque album cover.


During the 1970s, many records spun on home stereo systems and radio stations throughout the world that brought artists like Elton John to your town. LP Record albums with flashy covers were the delivery vehicle for music, lyrics, album art, and what parents considered wild ideas in the minds of the baby-boomer generation. In hindsight, music had a powerful impact on this young, impetuous high school graduate. What kept going through my mind? Who was Captain Fantastic?


I became a devoted fan of Elton John and Bernie Taupin and began collecting all of Elton's records. The question haunted my thoughts: How could I ever see someone who had risen to Super-Star in concert? The tickets must be outrageous!


WGN Radio Chicago announced that Elton would perform three nights at the Chicago Stadium. We waited impatiently for concert tickets to go on sale. The announcement came, sold out! How is that possible? Undaunted, early morning of July 28, 1976, my friend Chris Sharpe and I began the long five-hour drive to Chicago. As you can imagine, there were doubters, "You guys are idiots - get tickets, absurd; it's obvious you don't understand what sold out means!"


Rocking out to tunes on the eight-track player in my Opel Kadett, we hit the road, determined to see this concert. It was the first night of the show. During the long drive to Chicago, the discussion continued: "How will we get tickets?"


I'll admit the lyrics, "Should have stayed on the farm, should have listened to my old man." surfaced in my thoughts.


It was early afternoon when we finally arrived at the Chicago Stadium; the enormous parking lot was empty. The concert was scheduled for 8:00 p.m. Without a doubt, I had decided that morning; we would go directly to the ticket window at the Stadium and ask for tickets. The shocked look on Chris Sharpe's face was priceless when the ticket agent said, "You guys are in luck; the concert seating has been rearranged for tonight's show. How about two tickets for row six." Excellent! We shouted in unison.


. . . A fog drifts from the stage with multi-colored flashing lights - the eerie sound of an organ rises to a crescendo and then drops to complete silence. A solitary piano plays a familiar melody, the crowd waves their arms, and lighters glow throughout the Stadium. Funeral For A Friend/Loves Lies Bleeding from the album Goodbye Yellow Brick Road - rocks the Chicago Stadium, and the performance begins. What a night! After years of listening to Elton John on the radio and watching those records spin, I could not believe that we were sitting in the sixth row rocking out to Saturday Night's All Right for Fighting - Crocodile Rock - Bennie and the Jets - Grey Seal - Goodbye Yellow Brick Road - and Yes - Captain Fantastic and The Brown Dirt Cowboy. It was a night to remember two guys from Cuba, Illinois, who bucked the odds, laughing at all who called us idiots, ecstatic from seeing Elton John at the height of stardom.


That night, while driving home, with our ears still ringing, I realized success comes from doing - not wishing opportunities would drop into your lap. When the odds are stacked against you, give it your best. Never give up. Never, never give up.


Maybe through music, Elton and Bernie spoke to the youth of America that you, too, could be Captain Fantastic - hardly a hero, just someone his mother might know.


I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. See you in the next episode.


(Updated - April 20, 2023)

Comments

Beth said…
Never had the pleasure of seeing Sir Elton John in concert. I am glad you and your friend created that opportunity for yourselves.

Most Popular of All Time

Feeling Human Again

In this episode, The Unexpected Thankfulness of Feeling Human Again I’ll be honest with you: My triumphant return from France was not the glamorous homecoming I had imagined. No graceful glide back into routine. No cinematic jet-setter moment where I lift my suitcase off the carousel and wink at life like we’re old pals. Instead? I came home and immediately launched into a two-week performance piece titled The Great American Couch Collapse. My days blurred together in a haze of soup, hot tea, tissues, and desperate negotiations with the universe for just one nostril—one!—to function properly. The living room sofa became my emotional support furniture. And any creative idea that dared tiptoe into my congested brain was gently shown the exit with a firm but courteous, “Not today, friend. Try again later.” When life hits the pause button like that—when you’re exhausted, sick, and mentally unplugged—how do you find your spark again? Somehow, today, I felt it. A tiny shift. A clearing of th...

Patience – the Only First-Class Ticket

In this episode, Why Patience is the Only First-Class Ticket They say travel broadens the mind. After eight days sailing the Rhône with 140 fellow luxury vacationers, I can confirm it also tests patience, calf strength, buffet strategy, and one's tolerance for people furious that France insists on being French. Don't get me wrong—I adored this trip. The river shimmered like liquid optimism. The villages looked hand-painted. The pastries could negotiate world peace. But somewhere between Ship Horn Hello and Bon Voyage, we'd inadvertently boarded a floating behavioral research study disguised as a holiday. Our ship was less a cruise and more a ferry for the Sailors of Status. ⌚ The Wristwatch Wars Some passengers approached relaxation like yogis. Others treated leisure like a final exam with extra credit. I came to believe certain luxury watches emit ultrasonic signals that only their owners can detect. A frequency calibrated to trigger rapid movement toward any line forming...

Up the Rhône

Up the Rhône by Patrick Ball We booked a fine cruise up the Rhône — what a treat! With iPhones, lanyards, and schedules so neat. They promised us peace and a mind that would mend, But each calm beginning had chores at the end! "Now breakfast at seven! At eight, take the view!" At nine, there's a lecture on ' What Tourists Do!' At noon, there's a tasting (you must love the cheese), Then hurry to nap time — as corporate decrees! I followed that plan till my patience ran dry. The Rhône softly chuckled, "Oh my, oh my, my! You've missed half my sparkles, my ripples, my tone— You're busy pretending you've peacefully grown!" So I fired my planner and banished my clock. I tossed my agenda right off the dock! I let the wind tickle my schedule away, and drifted through hours that danced where they may. I chatted with swans, had no notion of when, I'd nibble, or nap, or go roaming again. No Wi-Fi! No meetings! No planning! No fuss! Just me and ...

When "Not Working" Becomes Your Actual Job

✨ In this episode. The Unscheduled Life: When "Not Working " Becomes Your Actual Job L'horloge du café est détraquée, le serveur s'en fiche et moi, j'essaie. Somewhere between the third sip of espresso and the second croissant, it occurs to me: doing nothing is the hardest work of all. The question on the table this morning, as I sip this slightly-too-strong French espresso, is deceptively simple: How does one define "vacation"? The conventional answer—an enduring triumph of corporate minimalism—is: "Not Working." But that tidy phrase immediately opens a philosophical can of worms. When is life working , and when is it not ? If the highest measure of vacation is simply the absence of labor, then most of our existence amounts to a relentless, unpaid internship for a job we never applied for. We've been conditioned to believe that life works when it's maximally efficient, tightly scheduled, and aimed at the shimmering horizon of "...