I am exhausted.
You know why I am exhausted? Because I tried to go to a concert.
A concert that started at 8:00 PM.
With two headlining bands and an opener.
On a fucking Tuesday.
It was great, it was fun, I’m super glad I went, but after taking some time off from going to shows (not on purpose, don’t get me wrong) I’m realizing that going to concerts is much different from what it was when I was A Youth. And yes, I’m sure some of you reading this are much older than me and are like “But Manda, you’re still A Youth!” but listen, faithful reader, eight at night on a Tuesday made me feel awful let me have this one.
Concert going as an old requires a different kind of pre-gaming. Gone are the days of drinking before we get to the venue. No, when my husband (who had to work from 5:00am to 2:00 in the afternoon) and I got home from work and class, we both crashed for a heavy nap. Mind you, we were both super tired from the whole four in the morning wakeup call thing, but it wasn’t just that. There was no way I was going to stay up for a concert that wouldn’t be over until at least ten at night.
So, we slept.
For some artists I insist on getting there when the doors open, depending on who it is. This time, as excited as I was to see the artists (and I’ll be reviewing the show on Headphone Couture this week, so keep tabs over there!) there was no way you were getting me there at doors this time. No, we rolled up at ten minutes to showtime after sitting down to a full homecooked meal first.
And then we drank a lot of waters once we got there. Beer was, as I explained to my mother, too expensive at the venue and did I mention I was too damn tired why am I so tired all the time.
Are you or is one of your loved ones about to turn thirty? Consider Permanent Exhaustion, new from the makers of I’m just going to take a short nap holy shit why is it suddenly the next day.
The most awkward thing about the show, though, was honestly watching all of the people I used to be. The quiet opener who didn’t have a setlist, the girl excitedly waiting at the front for her favorite band that almost no one has heard of, the ones dancing crazily with friends and getting into the music. It isn’t to say I don’t like those people, but it’s fun to have grown up a little, I guess. I still excitedly wait at the front, and I still dance crazy sometimes, and I haven’t opened a concert for other musicians in a long, long time, but… it’s fun kind of passing the torch along.
A few years ago I got mad at some kids at Summerfest for saving seats for their friends before a show. I still think about that sometimes, and I think about how I must have seemed to them. At the time I was angry; it was high summer heat and there was nowhere to sit and we wanted to see the band that was playing before the headliner, and we were hot and tired and frustrated.
But that didn’t really give me a right to infringe on anyone else’s fun. I get that now.
Going to concerts as An Old is exhausting. I spent the entire morning feeling awful and hungover without even touching alcohol, I rolled my eyes at the girls in the bathroom trying to scrub the giant black X off their hands, I needed multiple naps to survive the experience but you know what?
I had a fucking great time, and I can’t wait to do it again.
That always seems to be the case, doesn’t it?