Show a Heartfelt Affair

Some rockers stick around too long. They grow gray and fat and off-key and seemingly don't care who notices - just show me the money honey. C'mon, you know the names.

Just don't include Rick Springfield among them.

As witnessed by a crowd of about 3,500 last night at Innsbrook in Glen Allen, Springfield's no graying ghost of his former self. For better than 90 sweat-soaked minutes the should-be-graying '80s pop-rocker grabbed hold of the mainly female throng and carried them back down memory lane.

All under the really bright light of the moon and Mars.

Fifteen minutes late, Springfield sprinted on stage, slipped on a black Strat, and spent nary a second on words spoken. While a front row filled with 30-plus-year-old women screamed themselves silly, he bounded into "Affair of the Heart." Sounded pretty good, too.

And get this. He's 54, looks 34 and still sings like he's 24. Top that why don't ya, David Lee Roth.

Dressed in a black Rick Springfield T-shirt, baggy black pants and black tennis shoes, he strode from song to song without pause. Hit after hit. While a fan waved a sign that said "I Love you, Rick," he whipped through "I've Done Everything for You."

He sure did on this night, anyway.

Midway through the song, he stepped to the edge of the stage. Met with a chorus of camera flashes, he whipsawed his way through a so-so guitar solo. Song over, he slung his guitar into the wings of the stage and accepted a large bouquet of flowers from a fan.

Sweat gathered and glistened on his face within minutes. Something of an Energizer bunny, he at times looked like a man on springs, full of bounce.

And full of voice.

A dead-on and ad-libbed cover of "Gloria" (you know, "G-L-O-R-I-A...GLORIA!") sure made it look like he was having just as great a time as those who paid to see him. It gets better.

Hair pasted to his sweaty face, Springfield offered his microphone around to a number of shocked fans in the front row on "Don't Talk to Strangers." Some sang, most croaked. Then he invited a few dozen women to "help" him out on stage.

Yet geez, he carried it on a wee-bit too long.

Better you stick with the singing, Ricky boy. But next time, hold "Hey Joe." Give the guy kudos for the effort, but try covering Jimmy Buffett instead of Jimi Hendrix.

Speaking of effort, seconds into "State of the Heart," attending security scrambled when Springfield again made his way down to the crowd. Guitar in hand and still singing, he borrowed a fan's chair, stood up right among them and finished his song.

Then he moved about 10 rows deeper into the surprised bunch. Fittingly, he seemed to pluck songs as if from a hat, including apropos covers of "Wild Thing" and the Kinks' "You Really Got Me." Women grabbed and groped and he didn't seem to mind one bit.

Guys, can you blame him? Springfield looked like the lone lucky guy in the middle of a wild sorority party.

Maybe that's what keeps him young. He cares enough to care to have a great time.