5-04-2026 4:48am

The Measure: Brave Strangers

Lesley Misko Editor

illustration by Free Pik

by Phil Repko*

On Saturday, March 28, 2026, my wife and I made our way to the Colonial Theater in Phoenixville. The 1903 theater, a cousin to the youthful State Theater here in Boyertown, was the destination. But the objective was far more complicated. You see, the headliner for the night was a band called Brave Strangers, a tribute band featuring the catalog of Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band, a personal favorite during the classic rock period of our youth.

The objective was to seek and find some misty and elusive remnants. I wanted to feel, more than remember, some of the joy, excitement, and adrenaline of my adolescence and young adulthood. To be honest, this was not a maiden voyage. We have not-so-secretly been reaching through time to reclaim youthful energy – even remembered energy is desirable these days.

What’s new about this recognition is two-parted. I celebrate that the music of a half century ago is still breathing anew, and that original artists are still performing. I also cheer that we Boomers are numerous enough to keep the tribute bands in business. The true second part is filled with sadness; the pattern of lengthy music careers and shows is unlikely. The next generations will not have parallel experiences to ours.

It occurred to me that this quest really began about fifteen years ago. By 2011, my wife, Julie, and I had landed at the edge of our empty nest. Our oldest had moved out for the first time, and our younger two were in college. Consequently, most of the year, in 2011-2013, the only birds in the nest were the parents. Yes, we maintained the semblance of family by freeze-framing the children’s bedrooms. But for most of the year, only some of the sights and smells were truly present.

Unwittingly, we embarked on a nostalgic expedition for the things that once made the world go round: long hair, short shorts, loud music, and cheap beer. Well, for me, long hair was no longer an option. Short shorts, or anything short in terms of clothing, ran the risk of grave embarrassment. Cheap beer was out of the question. My oldest son had earlier convinced us to chase the tastiest IPAs, which are rarely cheap. The only thing reasonable to seek out was loud music. For what it’s worth, something was happening here.

To clarify, since we no longer derived much pleasure from accumulating stuff, we decided to find things that are enjoyable, but which don’t come close to serving any dangerous thrill-seeking urges. We are older. We are limited by ability and desire. But we still like to pretend and to revel. Finding good music has been a joy. That simple.

In the past fifteen or so years, we have been to see Chris Stapleton twice. He is as close to a classic singer/songwriter as the modern era has. In addition, we have seen Steve Winwood, Tom Petty, Neil Young, Band of Horses, Rascal Flatts, (Fake) Journey, Tusk – a Fleetwood Mac tribute band, a Lynyrd Skynyrd tribute band, Travis Tritt (the real one), an Elton John inspired show, and many others. In fact, a regular weekend dinner-date might specifically settle on a local musician plying his trade. There are options in all the local communities.

I hit upon this realization, and I recommend that all of you find your version of event-chasing activities. None of us needs more stuff. None of us needs more stuff. We have largely reached a stage of spoiled that makes occasional forays to concerts affordable. In addition, we might get lucky and find a way to see a current artist for an affordable price.

I think there is another element worth mentioning here. The music industry is going in the direction of many other industries these days. We no longer have popular music, top 100 stations, or shared experiences. At least, the generations that have followed us boomers do not. Other that Taylor Swift and those sequestered in the world of Country Music, the contemporary music world is filled with remarkable talent. However, without common platforms to share, the younger generations are listening to their music in isolation. I know I have lamented this in other instances, but I truly wonder where our descendants will be chasing memories when they reach our current ages.

Rap and hip-hop have dominated the music world in some ways. Indie music has a broad following. As I noted, the range of talent and the means to ply it has never been bigger or broader. But I can’t imagine most of the currently popular artists still touring and playing into their 70s and 80s. Careers in general have always been short, but the top artists of our youth have hung around, or been resurrected in their later years. I simply don’t see a path that leads to the next generation having the same type of fun we have been having.

Unfortunately, the country has been on a course that unwittingly – or not – undermines the common experience and subverts allegiances and commitments. Our collectiveness has been compromised. To be clear, I fear the millennials and the X,Y, and Z’s will have to bond over something else, or remain as splintered as we are today.

I know, it’s only rock and roll, but I like it, like it. Yes I do. If only the fragmentation were limited to music and entertainment. I see the same stunted loyalty in sports – whether it’s the product of NIL and the transfer portal, or salary caps and free agency. I see it in movies and TV, where people binge any one of fifty programs on a streaming service, and have trouble finding anyone who has seen the same shows, or who is up-to-date with one another when they have.

We are not far from living isolated, sheltered lives where even our closest friends, whom we met on-line, have no understanding of the things that we love the most, or the things we may look forward to.

Against the wind. We’re still running against the wind. We’re older now but still running against the wind.

Brave Strangers, indeed.

* Phil Repko is a career educator in the PA public school system who has been writing for fun and no profit since he was a teenager. Phil lives with his wife Julie in Gilbertsville and is the father of three outstanding children, two of whom are also poets and writers. He vacillates between poetry and prose, as the spirit beckons, and has published his first book of poetry “Pieces of April” and is currently working sporadically on a novella and a memoir.