In honor of Labor Day, here’s a concert bootleg of Men At Work. It’s actually decent-sounding and a lot of fun. They were the first band I ever saw live, at the ripe old age of 14. My pal Tom and I got driven into NYC by our parents and dropped off at Pier 87, where the show was held, jutting into the Hudson River. To show how long ago this was, inside, promo people were handing out half-packs of Kool cigarettes—both regular and menthol—as you went in. Of course, they didn’t give them to two curious teenagers, but after the show was done, we wandered around and picked up all the unopened packs we could find, stuffed them in our book bags, and took them home to sell to our friends at school. Amazingly, we didn’t get caught and made a fortune—$30. Weeks later, I went out to the woods by myself and opened the last pack to see what all the fuss was about. I lit it, took a deep breath of that now-stale Kool Menthol, and promptly threw up. Repeatedly. Needless to say, I am not a smoker today, so thank you, Men At Work, for providing a crucial life lesson.
