Not just another Saturday night

Back in college, if I could scrape the money together and snag a ride, I loved going to straight edge clubs, small venues, selling caffeine and sugar, rocked by garage bands.  The cover was cheap.  The music was LOUD and enthusiastic.  Perhaps not good, but the energy of it could make you high for the week.  It was the perfect place for me.

Since I was dependent on rides, it took some negotiating to convince someone to come with me.  Lucky for me I knew two lead singers and was friends with a girl whose boyfriend was a guitarist of another band, so I had reasons to go.  My “band” friends like me going because I matched them in loudness and enthusiasm.  Which lead to three years of yelling “I want to have Chris R’s baby” every time I saw him.  Every Time.  He was incredibly embarrassed and flattered.  Though when it came apparent I was with The One, Chris told me I would have to get permission from my fiance now to have any one else’s baby and so I might want to stop yelling “I want to have Chris R’s baby.”  Chris was a good guy.

But since the college days, I’ve given up rocking out with LOUD garage bands high on dreams of making it one day.  I rarely get to go to concerts because of the kids and the money but mainly the kids.  Hell, I don’t even get to go dancing any more.  Unless I want to join my parents at the local honky-tonk.  Uh, no thank you. 

So when The Husband actually bought me a pair of tickets to Mumford & Sons and promised to watch the boys while I went out with a friend.  A range of emotions filled me. Excitement, shock, suspicion, shock, suspicion, shock, excitement.  Really, how many separated couples buy each other gifts?  Then I called a friend that I had just the day before sat with trying to figure out how to get to the concert.  She was filled with one emotion.  Excitement.  As in, Are you freaking kidding me!?!!!!!  Hell, yeah, I’ll go!!!!!!

Saturday we left extremely early to get to the show.  I’m still trying to figure out if we left early so we could get could a good place to stand or that we just excited to be child-free for most of the day.  Since we left extremely early, we were able to grab a bite and make it to the line before it got too long.  My first priority was to secure a shirt for the man who bought the tickets.  And one for me.  Then my friend and I stood and talked and people watched.

I have never seen such a variety of people.  Hippies.  Fashionistas.  Cowboys.  Hipsters.  Goth.  And everything in between.  It was a little crazy.

Then the music started.  I, with 9,999 others, watched an awesome concert.  I just let the music wash over me, since I couldn’t really dance with all the people pushing in, hoping to get just a little closer.  I couldn’t help laughing at all the digital cameras clicking away as though they could actually pick up the musicians.  I loved watching the sign language interpreters as their hands signaled out the lyrics while their bodies moved with the music. Even now, I’m still bopping along to the songs from the concert running around in my head. 

I must admit wearing cute sandals were practical for the heat but not so practical for standing for five hours or so.  When my friend and I got to my car and sat down, I turned to her and suggested drive-thru instead of a bar just so that I could sit a little longer.  Luckily she agreed.  So we sipped milk shakes and Cokes as I sped down the dark desert highway home.

I had an amazing night.

So thanks to my friend who came with me.  We know a hell of a lot more about each other after spending nearly 12 hours together.

And thanks to The Husband for buying those tickets and watching the boys.


3 Responses to “Not just another Saturday night”

  1. jc Says:

    Hellz Yeah! Glad you had a great time. You deserve more of those days.

  2. Karyn @ kloppenmum Says:

    Lucky, lucky you. 🙂

  3. SassenFrassen Says:

    I am a garage-band-groupie-turned-early-to-bed-Mama as well…that sounds like a great night! I am inspired to plan one myself.

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