Natural Nostalgic High On Frankie Valli & Connie Francis

Last night’s concert at Asser Levy Park was like being high on nostalgia. Well, for me, anyway.

Apparently, some people in the crowd found that the only way they could cope with hearing the heavenly voices of Frankie Valli and Connie Francis was with alcohol. One man in the crowd was drunken-yellsinging out so loud when Frankie and his Four Seasons were making us swoon. But, no one said anything to him, because they all seemed to understand the emotion behind the outburst.

Still others wanted to feel even “higher” than the heights to which we were being taken by these legendary acts that they were lighting up their joints. No bother — because, when Frankie started to sing – “You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off you. You’d be like Heaven to touch,” – everyone’s attention was completely riveted to the sound emanating from the bandshell.

The night started off with Connie Francis. This lady is an American legend who conquered the world with her multilingual crooning. Her voice and the amplification were not strong enough to overcome the chattering crowd, but when she started singing the old familiar verse of one of my most all-time favorite songs, “Evening shadows make me blue. When each weary day is through. How I long to be with you — my happiness..”, my eyes were suddenly fixated on the moon, with her voice as the only sound that existed in Brooklyn South for just those few minutes.

For those of you who, unfortunately, missed the concert: I’m sorry, so sorry. This concert, with the clear skies and these two excellent performers, was more than just a nostalgic high. It was also a natural high under the Coney Island sky.

[My apologies to you for not having any pictures. Photography is not allowed and as the media seats had already been filled by the time I wrote in to Marty Markowitz’s office, I was one of  the masses who were not allowed to take photos. Although breaking the Borough President’s rules wasn’t much of a problem for some — or, so I heard, anway — when glass contraband went smashing into pieces onto the ground.]