by Jon Friedman

As someone who graduated from Stony Brook University in 1977, I feel bad for today’s student body. I also made it back to teach on the campus a decade ago, so you could say that I have a unique perspective of campus life.

Yes, the students of today have bragging rights that I can only marvel at. They have a few Starbucks shops on campus (though I did have the James Pub in the basement of my dorm for my first three years). They have many more flowers and trees now than when I went to school here. They have access to a School of Communication and Journalism, which I could only dream of when I was an undergraduate. (I knew I wanted to be a journalist, so I majored in English and spent most of my waking hours by writing for the Statesman)

But I think it is fair to say that I have richer memories about rock and roll concerts on campus.

I got nostalgic last week thinking about the Commencement ceremony and I was remembering my favorite shows -- and three came to mind:

My very first concert! It occurred on July 3, 1970 – when I was only 15 years old and still in high school. My older and wiser brother drove me out to the campus, and we saw a good one: the local Stalk Forrest Group (who grew up to be the famous Blue Oyster Cult) and the radical MC5 open for Ten Years After – when the English band was fresh off its triumph of the year before, at the famed Woodstock festival. I wonder if the majesty of this show propelled me to want to go to college at Stony Brook a few years later.

When I was a freshman at Stony Brook, in September 1973, my first month on the campus, two incredible concerts stood out.

Jackson Browne, then a virtual unknown, opened for Dave Mason, of Traffic fame. Jackson was terrific. I subsequently met him a few times over the years and mentioned the show to him. He smiled as he recollected that long ago night.

Then, on the same night that Billie Jean King taught Bobby Riggs a lesson in tennis and decorum, Bonnie Raitt headlined a free concert on the campus. She was excellent.

You just knew she was going to be someone special. Her opening act was Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup. He had written “That’s Alright Mama,” which Elvis Presley (and Rod Stewart, among others) had covered. Big Boy introduced the song by saying that “one of my boys sang this one.” That was pretty cool.

There were other shows that I remember fondly. I would like to think that I saw some special performers and that I had an eye for talent.

But I wasn’t perfect. Sigh.

I still kick myself for passing up an opportunity to go to a show at, I think, the Rainy Night House, also in September 1973 (if my memory serves me well).

That show featured an obscure guy from New Jersey who had just come out with his first album. He was best known as the latest in a line of singers being marketed as The Next Bob Dylan.

The kid’s name was Bruce Springsteen.

I wonder what ever became of him.