Keith Richards, Mick Jagger, Ron Wood, Charlie Watts

Original new wavers the Pretenders opened the Vets stadium festivities with an energetic and well-received greatest-hits set that included "City Was Gone," "Back on the Chain Gang," "I'll Stand By You," and the still skank-worthy "Brass in Pocket." Though charcoal eye-lined chanteuse Chrissie Hynde and drummer Martin "Sideburns" Chambers were the only two original Pretenders, the new band played respectable versions of their predecessors' best and Chrissie's smoky vocals have aged with the fine resonance of a bottle of single malt scotch. As for how they looked, who could tell from my "cheap" ($100) seat well into the stadium's rafters? As opening act, the Pretenders didn't get to use the Rolling Stones' video screens, but the folks down front weren't shrieking in horror so Hynde and company couldn't have been too frightening.

After a 45-minute set change/restroom/beer run and an eclectic intermission mix of original blues breakers with names like Blind Boy Jefferson, Poor Dog Johnson and the ever-popular Howlin' Lemon Jackson, it was finally time for the big show to begin. The ballpark lights dimmed, the stage lit up like Times Square on New Years Eve and out rolled the Stones with a heaping helping of "Brown Sugar" and the biggest, loudest wrong notes I've ever heard.

"Oh my God," I thought in shock. "I paid a fortune; I'm sitting half a mile away and they suck!" Someone, either Keith or Ron Wood, who's been with the band about 25 years and is still thought of as the new guy, was either out of tune or on the wrong fret. And at stadium volume that ain't a pretty sounding place to be. Reportedly, the Rolling ones have rehearsed 130 songs ("Brown Sugar" apparently not being one of them) to get ready for this tour, which includes shows at ballpark, arena and theater-sized venues in selected cities to promote their new Forty Licks greatest-hits double-CD set. Licks also includes the band's instantly forgettable new single "Don't Stop" and three other attempts at fresh material.

Meanwhile, back on the 20-yard line, fortunately it didn't take the leathery lads long to remedy their technical difficulties and the next two hours passed without a hitch, glitch or Parkinson's twitch.

In the 20 years since Jagger/Richards et al had their last big hit with "Start Me Up," they've gone from being "the greatest rock 'n' roll band in the world" to being the "greatest Rolling Stones cover band in the world." Good thing too, because judging by the cheers that followed each boulder of classic rock, new material was not what 45,000 of my closest friends and I had overpaid to see.

Pick a hit, any hit and they probably played it and played it well. From FM-radio standards like "Honky Tonk Woman," "Jumping Jack Flash," and "Sympathy for the Devil" to slightly less heavily rotated cuts like "Street Fighting Man," and "Let It Bleed," each three-chord classic brought a resounding shout from the crowd. Some were grandparent-types old enough to have seen the band in the group's late '60s heyday, others were young enough to be late for homeroom the next day.

Small surprises included Keith handling microphone duties for two songs. Transforming the cavernous arena into his own private cocktail lounge with the slow burning groove of "Slipping Away," then picking up the tempo slightly with Richards' ode to his own bad-boy self "Before They Make Me Run." Ironic, since at his age and status, Keef -- often referred to as "the world's most elegantly wasted human being" -- is too mature and rich to have anyone make him run anywhere.

The one selection that threatened to derail the night came halfway through the show in the misguided guise of a cover of "Love Train," the O'Jays disco soul hit. If nothing else, it gave the crowd a chance to hit the restrooms one more time and plunk down a final $6.25 before the beer concessions closed. Pricey, but fair, considering the suds came in 16-ounce bottles.

Not wanting to completely ignore the audience to the rear of the arena, the Stones sauntered down a long runway to a boxing-ring-sized stage where they trotted out a few lower-key numbers including "Wild Horses" and a cover of Bob Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone," which Mick sings better than Mr. Tambourine Man himself. Proving, that like Dylan's pitch-poor counterpart Bruce Springsteen, certain songwriters, genius or not, should leave the singing to the guy with the biggest lips.

Closing out the night with vigorous encores of "Jumping Jack Flash" and "I Can't Get No (Satisfaction)," the Rolling Stones demonstrated without doubt that while they might be road dogs too old to learn any new tricks, they sure know the old ones real well. And since war is "just a shot away" today as it was when they wrote "Gimmie Shelter" during the Vietnam era, the Rolling Stones aren't nearly as out of time or date as their birth certificates would have you think.