concert
I was thinking about concerts tonight, and this is what came out...
Enjoy!
I can feel the crunch of the dried mud under my feet, and the cool summer breeze sweeping in from somewhere above. The crowd that is currently gathered around the stage is small, but it will grow. After all, the show doesn't start for another two hours. I am here early to ready myself for the music. To drink in the sights and the sounds of the gradually filling out door arena before that first chord is played. I am here to prepare myself to worship at the temple of rock and roll. The stage is filled with people, running left and right with cords, guitars, drums, amps. The tools of the trade being prepared to take part in this ritual. I look at the crowd around me, and I know that most of us have been here before. We understand the thing that we are about to take part in. To my left is a stout man with a grizzled gray beard. He gazes reflectively at the stage, perhaps replaying all the shows that he has seen in his life. Rock and roll is like a drug, or those potato chips that they say you can't eat just one of. If you are a true believer, one show is never enough. You must keep returning to the temple for more. The music has a power in memory that little else posesses. Maybe most fans grow up to be suburban workaholics, driving their soccer teams around in mini vans. Yet they will occasionaly hear a few notes on the radio that take them back years and years. For an instant, they feel that yearning again, and wish they could turn back the clock. I know that this old pilgrim understands why he is here. He has the look of one who has fought to keep the music in his head at full volume. To never give in to the silent conformity that society has tried to push on him. I catch his eye and nod. He returns my gaze knowingly. In front of me, and to the right, is a small boy pressed right against the front fence. He cannot be a day over eleven, and he stares mesmerized at the bands new guitarist who tunes his guitar in the shadows at the back of the stage. This child has probably never been to a show before, and his eyes are like saucers. He is experiencing a delightful mixture of anticipation, curiosity, fear, and rebellion. It causes me to remember the first show I saw. This kid has no idea how his world will be changed tonight. The time is getting closer. The techies have cleared the stage. It is shrouded in a synthetic smoke, lit in different colors by the various lights. The crowd around me has grown. I am pushed toward the fence by the growing pressure. The buzz and excitement in the arena grows by the minute. Soon, the head of the festival steps onto the stage with some notices. "We don't care!" the crowd seems to roar. He clears the stage for a dj at some local radio station who is supposed to introduce the band. We don't hear a word he says, for our roaring cheer has grown so loud. He leaves, and the stage is dark, save the gray cloud of smoke. Eerie shapes appear on stage, wielding weapons resembling guitars and basses. The drum beat starts, the lights go up, and it has begun.
Enjoy!
I can feel the crunch of the dried mud under my feet, and the cool summer breeze sweeping in from somewhere above. The crowd that is currently gathered around the stage is small, but it will grow. After all, the show doesn't start for another two hours. I am here early to ready myself for the music. To drink in the sights and the sounds of the gradually filling out door arena before that first chord is played. I am here to prepare myself to worship at the temple of rock and roll. The stage is filled with people, running left and right with cords, guitars, drums, amps. The tools of the trade being prepared to take part in this ritual. I look at the crowd around me, and I know that most of us have been here before. We understand the thing that we are about to take part in. To my left is a stout man with a grizzled gray beard. He gazes reflectively at the stage, perhaps replaying all the shows that he has seen in his life. Rock and roll is like a drug, or those potato chips that they say you can't eat just one of. If you are a true believer, one show is never enough. You must keep returning to the temple for more. The music has a power in memory that little else posesses. Maybe most fans grow up to be suburban workaholics, driving their soccer teams around in mini vans. Yet they will occasionaly hear a few notes on the radio that take them back years and years. For an instant, they feel that yearning again, and wish they could turn back the clock. I know that this old pilgrim understands why he is here. He has the look of one who has fought to keep the music in his head at full volume. To never give in to the silent conformity that society has tried to push on him. I catch his eye and nod. He returns my gaze knowingly. In front of me, and to the right, is a small boy pressed right against the front fence. He cannot be a day over eleven, and he stares mesmerized at the bands new guitarist who tunes his guitar in the shadows at the back of the stage. This child has probably never been to a show before, and his eyes are like saucers. He is experiencing a delightful mixture of anticipation, curiosity, fear, and rebellion. It causes me to remember the first show I saw. This kid has no idea how his world will be changed tonight. The time is getting closer. The techies have cleared the stage. It is shrouded in a synthetic smoke, lit in different colors by the various lights. The crowd around me has grown. I am pushed toward the fence by the growing pressure. The buzz and excitement in the arena grows by the minute. Soon, the head of the festival steps onto the stage with some notices. "We don't care!" the crowd seems to roar. He clears the stage for a dj at some local radio station who is supposed to introduce the band. We don't hear a word he says, for our roaring cheer has grown so loud. He leaves, and the stage is dark, save the gray cloud of smoke. Eerie shapes appear on stage, wielding weapons resembling guitars and basses. The drum beat starts, the lights go up, and it has begun.