I’m getting old. Not so much old in body. I’m old in spirit. This past Tuesday my husband and I saw the Foo Fighters in concert at Red Rocks. I love Red Rocks. Catching a concert there is always a great experience. And while I love the Foo Fighters’ music, the concert was just too loud for me.
In fact, I didn’t really hear music. I heard noise. Loud, loud noise. And then I came to a very sad conclusion: I’m not 18 years old anymore. I like music. I like attending concerts, but I don’t want to listen to loud music, and I don’t want to have stand or jump through a whole concert. I don’t want to inhale second-hand smoke from cigarettes or ganja (I don’t mind the smell; I just don’t want the contact high). Don’t get me wrong, the concert was great (Grohl’s performance of Everlong was incredible, among other concert highlights), but I’m just too old for the scene. The Mark Knophler concert I saw in June was more my speed. It was easy listening (oh dear God, did I just use that term?). I sat through most of the concert, enjoying my beverage and some Golden Grahams. I was able to make out each tune’s melody, and I could even hear myself sing along. If this makes me pathetic, then so be it. I just hope it doesn’t make me any older than I already am.
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I hear ya, Andy. I used to be the person at the concert that everyone was yelling at to sit down. Now i’m the one yelling at the damn kids in front of me to sit down cuz i didn’t pay 200 dollars to see the backs of stranger’s heads. Yeah, I’m old too. sigh.
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