The Joy of Live Music
Jason and I LOVE going to see live music together. Life is so busy that it’s nice to have an escape, maybe dance a little, at least bop our head. We fight the mosquitoes to enjoy festivals and outdoor concerts, push our way into the crowds of standing-room-only general admissions, and quietly add ear plugs to our ears as the music starts (we are realizing, sadly too late, that we need to really protect our hearing). It doesn’t seem to matter the genre. Our tastes are eclectic. We’ll don all black for a metal show, or look suitably trendy for St. Vincent or Haim. We even went a little emo recently to see Morrissey. We will toe tap through a blue grass concert outside just as easily as we will do the “Robot” to the electronic wonders of Kraftwerk in a dark room. Side note: I’m not very good at the Robot, but Jason is a good sport watching me try. I’m subtle so as not to draw too much attention from onlookers. I’m not performance quality in that style of dance, let’s put it that way.
But as I approach my 50th birthday (not until late fall, so I have still have some time; no rush), I am noticing a few things at concerts. They are hot. I don’t enjoy being hot. I am in a certain point of life where being hot feels like I am burning alive from the inside out. It’s less than pleasant. But I won’t let it stop me. I now travel with a folding fan I can wave in my face if I feel myself starting to go down in a crowd. Or I escape to a bathroom for a splash of cold water and search for uncrowded air conditioning. I have also become aware that I don’t love a lot of extreme flashing lights. I immediately worry that there are people in the building with seizure disorders, and how are they doing with all this? I close my eyes and sometimes have to look in the other direction to avoid feeling sick from the display. Solutions!
Music is a beautiful thing that brings people together and can give us all the feels. I won’t let age and a little discomfort stop me from enjoying it with my honey. But, if anyone is listening out there at the merch tables, there might be a contingent of the audience who would buy icepacks and sunglasses. The cooler I am (temperature wise), the more chance you might be able to witness my Robot for yourself.