Mick: Show Us Some Skin

The Rolling Stones seem to be hinting through posts made via Facebook and Twitter that this past weekend’s concert at Hyde Park may only be the conclusion of “this leg” of the 50 and Counting Tour. Like most Stones fans, I’m hoping that they will continue after a summer hiatus. If they do, I have one simple request for Mick Jagger: Show us some skin!

Recently I watched a full-length video of the Stones at Glastonbury. Viewing a video of the concert, as opposed to being there in person, I found myself focusing on the visual aspects of the show. The epic production of a Rolling Stones concert is a highly calculated one with extensive set and lighting design and costume changes, among other things. Mick Jagger wore several different outfits but ultimately peeled away jackets made of sequence and ostrich feathers to reveal a plain, long-sleeved black shirt.

Pardon my shallowness, but seriously. Mick, you still look great! Break out those tight t-shirts from the last tour and display your well-toned arms. I can’t be the only fan that wouldn’t mind getting a glimpse at your abs as you raise your arms and point into the crowd. Why are you covering up?

Unfortunately there’s been a lot of nasty press about the Stones being too old to rock. Mick Jagger will turn 70 at the end of this month, so perhaps there are some that think men of a certain age should suddenly wear more conservative, less-revealing clothing. Just last month I spent some time in Hawaii around a resort pool and saw many shirtless guys in their 20s and 30s sporting spare tires and looking soft and haggard. Youth does not automatically equal hotness.

In a commentary published in The Guardian, Hadley Freeman argues that, “casual ageism isn't ‘less bad’ than any of the other nasty-isms.” I agree with her point that the constant mocking of the Rolling Stones and other aging musicians and celebrities is nothing more than blatant age discrimination. The Stones may all be grandparents, but they sound amazing and are still rocking at their best. In addition, Freeman emphasizes that Mick has a fitness routine that would put most of us to shame. “Presumably those who are so grossed out by Jagger's age would like to trap him and put him on an ice floe, but sadly they can't catch him, as he's in such good shape and can outrun us all.”

Inspired by one of those beloved t-shirts is an excerpt from my novel Satisfaction:

Mick Jagger sang the lyrics to one of rock’s most famous openings, running to the front of the stage to shuffle, point and dance. He was wearing his signature tight black trousers and a red muscle tee. Ginny couldn’t help but notice the amazing shape he was in. Veins popped up from his muscled arms, and she imagined running her fingers across the sinewy collection of thick purple rivers flowing down to his wrist.

He was smoking hot. Thin and cut, he kept right on rocking the whole civilized world. Mick Jagger, iconic rock star, the world’s most energetic, enigmatic man captivated her. As Ginny looked around, she knew that she wasn’t the only one caught under his hypnotic allure. Twenty thousand hearts and minds belonged to him, if only for two hours.