At first I didn’t really want to go. It was on Sunday night and the idea of going out on a Sunday with school and kids on Monday was just a little overwhelming. Then I told myself to stop being so old and crotchety. He wanted to see a concert…and a really great concert at that. The last concert I saw was my son’s Kindergarten class singing a medley of non-religious generic holiday music…most of which was off key and included snowflake references.
So we went. First we went to a bar/restaurant on Division and I actually said “As long as you believe it’s safe, then I’ll go.” I almost laughed at myself. Next I’d be talking about roaming hobos. (What has happened to me? When did I become so suburban?)
Dinner consisted of wine and a fancy pulled pork sandwich on a pretzel bun and some of the best fries ever. Then we drove to The Intersection. I started having flashbacks to my twenties; of course then The Intersection was grungy and in Eastown and I was dating a musician who sometimes played there. I got to be on the Get In Free list, and I must admit it felt pretty cool to be a groupie. No list this time though. Kealoha and I stood in a long line that stretched under the bridge. Everyone in line looked the same; it’s like we called each other with the outfit choices.
Kealoha and I wore jeans, t-shirts, and sweatshirt hoodies. Others wore Converse shoes, skinny jeans, and t-shirts with their favorite unknown band logo displayed proudly for people to look up on their iPhones while waiting for the doors to open.
We finally got inside, paid our $43 for a pair of tickets and were swept into the open black hole that is The Intersection. Not a bad little space; it has black walls and dark floors. I imagine if you were tripping on something you’d feel like you were an astronaut floating in space. There were pretty mood-lights to make it all feel concert-y. And there weren’t enough chairs. We all stood around awkwardly, like an unsuccessful party with not enough people, food, or drinks.
Most of the people were in their thirties and forties. A few brought their kids along. The crazy thing is, if you spun the word backwards and slipped back fifteen years or so, we’d all still look exactly the same, wearing the same clothes, still bobbing along awkwardly to the music. It was one of those “Eek! I’m revisiting my twenties!” kind of moments. Only at this age, everyone just seemed a little plumper. And we talked about our kids and stuff like having bunions removed.
Still, Kealoha and I reveled in our hour of living The Life. We smiled and bobbed our heads slightly in time to the music. We were there mostly to see Jonathan Coulton (who Kealoha introduced me to. Not literally. Just his music.) After a half hour of songs about getting an artificial heart and monkey love or something, Coulton’s set was done and Kealoha and I were on our way home. I have to admit, my feet sort of hurt from standing on the concrete.
It was nice to revisit my twenties, but I’ve got to admit, I wouldn’t want to live there again. I’m strangely content with being in my yoga pant pajamas by 8:30 PM, snuggling next to Kealoha and watching the foreign version of "The Girl Who Played With Fire" while trying desperately not to fall asleep.
I’m not a hipster. I’m not even cool. I actually don’t even know what the cool word for cool is anymore.
I am sooooo okay with that.
Please enjoy this song by Jonathan Coulton, presented in "Zombie Sign Language". Hope you find it uplifting.