Last night I wandered around my house, avoiding the general goings-on: TV on in the living room, HO trains running on the living room floor, dessert in the kitchen, relatives milling about. I chose to stick close to the bedrooms, making wide loops around social interaction. I was tired from a long day of standing in front of a grill where I fried up seventy-two hamburgers and countless numbers of hot dogs. Being tired, however, wasn't the main reason for my limiting human contact. I was depressed at the thought of the Green Day concert taking place just across the Bay Bridge - without me.
I could have gone. I could have bought tickets months ago when they first went on sale. I could have bought tickets up to a few weeks ago. I could have gone over and bought a ticket from a scalper and gone in at the last minute. I could have gone. Now all I can do is start doing the "sour grapes" thing: It would have been too big a venue. Green Day sold out a long time ago. It wouldn't have been like seeing them at The Gilman when the were first coming up. The traffic would have been awful. I was tired from grilling all day.
Nah - I wanted to go.
I wanted to go because of an experience some years ago. Presented with a choice of seeing Pearl Jam or Bruce Cockburn, I picked the "safe" alternative of the folksy-Canadian over the grunge and mosh experience from Seattle. The night of the concert I sat in my seat with a thousand other flannel shirted fans of "The Other Bruce" and I reflected back still further. I remembered sitting in my living room watching clips of Nirvana, in one of their last shows, perform on MTV's New Year's Eve show. That show was taking place just two miles from my home. I felt safe and warm, but sad and lonely. I know that Bruce Cockburn played a great show that night, but I sat there feeling old and tired. Nobody left the relative comfort of their seat to dance or toss themselves from the stage. The music was moving and thought provoking, but it wasn't cathartic for me. It wasn't rock and roll.
This morning I have begun actively counting the days until I take my son to see DEVO. Laugh if you must, but I know that they rock.