Internet, I have a confession to make. It’s really not my confession, it’s Joel’s. You see, Joel is not on Facebook.
I can’t really blame him, since 80% of the time Facebook makes me want to bludgeon my “friends” with a book on the correct usage of grammar and punctuation… and that’s not to mention the people who genuinely do not know the definition of words they use every day. (You are not “weary” of trying out a new hair salon. The word is "leery.") (FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.)
But because of his disinclination to enter the wide world of social networking, what often happens is that I end up liking (or friending, or whatever it’s called) all the organizations that he would like if he were on Facebook, so that I can see their updates and pass them on to him. That’s what marriage is about, right? Liking things for someone else on Facebook?
I logged in this weekend and saw that a comic book shop that my cartoon-loving husband enjoys visiting was giving away free tickets to the Matt & Kim concert on Saturday. I've been in love with Matt & Kim since I first saw this Bacardi commercial. The first time I saw it, I rushed upstairs and described it to Joel so he could look it up on the internet and find the song for me. I probably shouldn't admit that I actually discover a lot of new music from commercials, especially since I now have Shazam on my phone, so I can just find the songs and download them myself. (And while we're on the topic of things I shouldn't admit on the internet, I'll confess that I actually like this comic book shop, too. They have actual print, hardcover books filled with lolcats! Maybe THAT’S what marriage is really about: “liking” stuff you don’t like and then realizing you really DO like it.) I got in the car and sped off to Hampden and that’s how we ended up at an indie rock concert.
Now, I have been to a few concerts in my life. But I haven’t been to one in a while, and I don’t think that I’ve ever been to one -- how do I put this so that I don’t sound like an alcoholic? -- sober. In fact, after the second or third Dave Matthews concert where I had to rely on photographic evidence to see what happened (see: blackout drunk, I use to like to get), I actually stopped buying tickets. Why waste $40 on a concert pass when you’re not going to remember anything that happens after the second hour of the tailgate party, right? Yes, I may have made some poor decisions in my life, but I’ve always hated wasting money.
Anyway, barring a couple of free weeknight shows put on by the local radio station, I haven’t been to a concert in a quite a while, let alone a cool hipster indie rock concert. What does one wear to a hipster indie rock concert? (I went with jeans, my Privo sneakers, and a t-shirt. In other words, my weekend uniform.)
We left around 7:30pm, and MAN did I feel like a rule-breaker. The tickets said the doors opened at 7pm and I do not like being late. (That statement should not be confused with “I am never late,” because I am late all the time. If we have ever met in person, I was probably late. But trust me, I felt REALLY bad about it.) But we knew that no one arrives at concerts on time, that would simply be uncool. No, we planned to arrive fashionably late. By the time we had parked and ordered some food, I’d started to panic, though. It was almost 8pm. What if they played Daylight first and we missed it? So we scarfed down our pizza and rushed into the venue, only to find that the first warm-up band had not even started. It turns out that being fashionably late to a concert means two and a half hours late, not 57 minutes after the doors open. Who knew?
We waited through the first warmup band (horrible) and the second warmup band (not too bad), and finally, FINALLY, Matt and Kim came out. And at the very end they played Daylight. And I loved it.
But even more, I loved that the whole night, including four slices of pizza and a beer for Joel, cost us $16.
And perhaps most of all, I loved sitting down when we got home. How do kids stand up all night like that?