Time is all we have
…so take the time, to make the time.
Just got back from the Black Heart Procession show. So, let’s talk drunkenly about the way things ussed to be:
There was a time, not so long ago, when I’d have hated me. See, I’ve been going to the Bottom of the Hill since I was 16 or so. Scrawny emo Micah would be up at the front of the stage, dancing his little emo heart out. And every once in a while he’d look behind him and see that guy. His nemesis. The anithesis of everything that emo Micah stood for. The 20-something year old dude, wearing a black leather jacket, sipping his beer while stainding by the bar and nodding his head slowly in time with the music. And, oh man, I hated that guy. Whay aren’t you fucking dancing?! What the hell are you doing?!
And I’ve become that guy.
I’m not even sure how it happened. As recently as a couple years ago, I’d have been fighting my way to the front of the crowd to rock the shit out to one of my favorite bands. But then, I don’t know, things changed. As much as I still love live music, it just doesn’t seem as important to be right up front anymore. I can appreciate it just fine from the back of the crowd. Maybe it has something to do with my growing misanthropy (about more will be said tomorrow, likely). But tonight, I ran into an old friend and spent half the night outside, sipping my Jameson, chainsmoking, and catching up. I missed about half the show, but do not feel at all like I missed out. Am I over shows? Am I just too old to deal with that shit anymore? I don’t know. And it does not make me happy in the least.
On the other hand, at least I’m not wearing tight black jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt that says “Sorry, I only date emo boys with broken hearts” anymore. Yeah… as much as growing old sucks, it could be a lot worse. I could still be 20.
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