Remembering Live Aid

Being a bit of agoraphobic social misfit in them days (as in these), I didn't attend our high school class "senior week", a drunken rite-of-passage at the cheapest/closest beach that will look the other way and rent a room to a pile of hormotional 17 year olds paying in cash. This would have been the summer of 84.

But the next year I was coaxed into goin…