Losing Perspective
I almost allowed the common perspective of the "blog" to get the better of me this week. At current, I'm gald I stuck to my usual train of thought and dismissed it. Though not much of a tool at present, it has proven usful in the past, and I must press on.
I can remember, as an optimistic thirteen year-old, a concert I went to in yet anther church gymnasium. Being a groupie for my brothers band, I went to alot of these shows. This one however, many things happened. No. I was 14.
Squad-Five-O was head lining. Chuck took me out back as he smoked a cigarette. And I met a girl whm I had a great conversation with, despite her being three years older than me. I must have been in love with her for at least two weeks.
But Squad-Five-O. Hard core punk. When live, mostly just static noise in nature. There was a guy there in a spiderman costume. It was not Halloween. I think his name was Joe. The pit was livly, and as usual, once things began to wind down, the band broke down into worship music. Slightly more audible. Always makes to wrap up the evening nicely.
That particualr night however, things ended strangely. Tattoos from knuckles to neck, the sweaty guitarist seemed to get worked up during what turned out to be the final number. His playing began to go slightly awry as his emotions became more apparent. As he raised the guitar above his head, and his face turned grimmace, confusion consumed me. I had heard of this, but never saw it. As the guitar was now raied above his head for what seemed like minutes, even the other members of the band stopped playing to take note, and, just as I, looked concerned.
My stomach ached as I realized and simultaniously, he threw the guitar to the stage with as much frustrated force as he could muster. I'm sure it made a sound, but I dont remember. He half sat, half collapsed to his knees and covered his face. Myself, the crowd, the rest of the band... staring.
Us kids, we began to look around to know how to react. I watched as his fellow band mates came up console him. The concert, was over. Still, even now, I'm not sure this as the way it was supposed to end. Not planned anyway.
I do, now, understand though. the frustration.
"Is the glass half empty, half full, or twice as large as it needs to be?" ~Author Unknown
I can remember, as an optimistic thirteen year-old, a concert I went to in yet anther church gymnasium. Being a groupie for my brothers band, I went to alot of these shows. This one however, many things happened. No. I was 14.
Squad-Five-O was head lining. Chuck took me out back as he smoked a cigarette. And I met a girl whm I had a great conversation with, despite her being three years older than me. I must have been in love with her for at least two weeks.
But Squad-Five-O. Hard core punk. When live, mostly just static noise in nature. There was a guy there in a spiderman costume. It was not Halloween. I think his name was Joe. The pit was livly, and as usual, once things began to wind down, the band broke down into worship music. Slightly more audible. Always makes to wrap up the evening nicely.
That particualr night however, things ended strangely. Tattoos from knuckles to neck, the sweaty guitarist seemed to get worked up during what turned out to be the final number. His playing began to go slightly awry as his emotions became more apparent. As he raised the guitar above his head, and his face turned grimmace, confusion consumed me. I had heard of this, but never saw it. As the guitar was now raied above his head for what seemed like minutes, even the other members of the band stopped playing to take note, and, just as I, looked concerned.
My stomach ached as I realized and simultaniously, he threw the guitar to the stage with as much frustrated force as he could muster. I'm sure it made a sound, but I dont remember. He half sat, half collapsed to his knees and covered his face. Myself, the crowd, the rest of the band... staring.
Us kids, we began to look around to know how to react. I watched as his fellow band mates came up console him. The concert, was over. Still, even now, I'm not sure this as the way it was supposed to end. Not planned anyway.
I do, now, understand though. the frustration.
"Is the glass half empty, half full, or twice as large as it needs to be?" ~Author Unknown