THE TONGUE HAS IT

The end of a perfect summer's day is the perfect end. And, as fifteen thousand young people know, the end to a whole lot else: baseball, football, and hey-get-your-cold-beer-here; the flag, the family, the Fonz, and Laverne and her stuck-up Shirley; Beethoven, Bach, Tchaikowsky, and Coltrane; Miles Davis and Miles Laboratories; Wall Street, Basin Street, Bleecker Street, and Bloomingdale's. The end goes on, and now the young minds teem with the possibilities: And maybe even rock 'n' roll? The death of rock 'n' roll...and then the Night? The end of the night, the beginning of the dawn, new light, new air, new life...Could it be? Could it be that they are bearing witness to the inexorable black dawn, the fertile Armageddon, the new music, the new reaction, the new thrust forward?

Paul Stanley, alive with his star, screams into the mike: "Good Evening, Jersey City!!!" And the band is off: "Deuce."