Sorry for all the quotes and no action from my sphere. I’m taking some summer courses that are kicking my butt. PLUS tomorrow begins Athfest, so I’ll be dancing, singing, and jamming to some of my favorite local musicians with hundreds of people. Wooo boy, I remember when I first saw the Whigs at Athfest when I was in high school. Come to think of it, that was the first time I stepped into 40 Watt. So long ago!
Overall, I think the first concert I saw made a considerable impression on my childhood. Widespread Panic rolled into town when I was about five or six years old. My parents, for some ludicrous reason, took us to the show. We met my uncle, who was on duty for the event maintaining the crowd. He grunted, adjusting his belt. They all talked about the concert—my uncle mentioning that the large event created so much confusion that they couldn’t really enforce any laws. He had to work, so we began to leave the little side-street where he was stationed. As we turned the corner, it hit all at once. When I squinted my eyes a little, the street seemed filled with a confetti of clothes, skin, and faces. Everyone was tall, mostly looking forward to wherever they loped. The world seem to both move with me and over me. The others moved so quickly, gliding as if on conveyor belts.
Our lungs, practically gills due to the humid air of the South, sucked in a sweet, almost spicy scent. Men and women with dreadlocks, some wearing tie-dye and ripped jeans or cargos, smoked pipes under canopies. My father reached down, pulling me up onto his shoulders. I played with his thick glasses, smacking his nose a couple of times for good measure.
We walked closer to the back of t-shirts and I could see the stage. Next to me, a woman sat on a man’s shoulders. The man, between her legs, shouted, “You’ve got the best seat in the house!”
I can’t remember much else, but it makes me happy just to have experienced it all.