Last night I had the duty of taking Sons Number One and Two along with their cousin to see The Classic Crime at the Showbox next to Pike Place Market in Seattle. The concert had a few different bands and I think they were all competing to see how freakin' loud they could get. Even sitting towards the back did not help. It must be encroaching middle age but the last few songs were almost unbearable. Also, watching the spastic frenzy of the energy drink fueled mosh pit hurt me from thirty feet away. Yikes.
At least the young ones thought it was really swell. Me, I think I would have had more fun waiting in the minivan.
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5 comments:
Perhaps now is the time to sit down and retell a Hunchback tale...
I soo relate to this. I was once a bit of a mosh-girl, back in college, and I loved the music loud. Now, it often sounds like noise. If there's ever a next time, I hear that wearing cotton balls in the ears helps.
>picture a geriatric old lady with white fluff instead of ears and you'll have my identity<
Jeff, like me...you're getting old.
Complaining about loud music is the first true sign. You won't like the next one either...but a little more fiber will do the trick.
That's the fun of turning 40 I suppose.
You can cure your children's ardor for any band by knowing something about them and being able to recognize some of their songs. This immediately makes the band severely less cool.
When my oldest kids were teenagers, I could make a particularly annoying song vanish in an instant by humming a few bars at the breakfast table.
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