Shine a Light!

Oh those Stones... I sat real close to the IMAX screen so I could drown myself in it. I could see right inside Mick Jagger's mouth to the inner surfaces of his teeth. They don't look so good on that side. Maybe I was too close.

Charlie Watts has the only real hair and looks so normal he's probably the looniest. The others are dyed. How they can strut around with their real faces and be afraid of gray hair is a mystery. Jagger's is wild chic, Richards has nappy bed hair, and Woods' impossibly sleek, shiny, thick, unmoving black locks must surely be a wig.

These guys are just totally awesome. I can't think of a better word. How can they be so old and so hot? Jagger isn't just energetic, he's muscular and flexible like a dancer or a yogi and aggressive like a fighter. He never smiles. Richards is like a gypsy, all smiles and bangles and rags with sweet secrets in his eyes. His eyeliner is spooky. Woods is hidden, just the guitar. He and Keith always have something going on. Watts is another country.

I love them, love them, love my idea of them, especially Keith, but I don't know them at all.

Thank you, Marty Scorsese.