Like A (Concert) Virgin
I’ve definitely mentioned my first concert being at the age of five more than once, probably way too much, but I figured it was time that I tell the story behind that occurrence. My grandpa had passed away earlier that year in June and my family came back to help my grandma pack things so she could move into an apartment.
We were visiting to help out in August as she needed to move before winter hit—my grandpa would have to plow the driveway so she could get out to go to work and sometimes plow it again so she could get home. During the trip, we all went out to dinner one night and, on the drive home down the interstate, drove by the Red Lion when we heard the music playing (it was an outdoor show). We pulled over to send my uncle a video of the music but apparently, according to my mother when I asked her the whole story again for this column, when I heard the music, “it was over!”
To nobody’s surprise, I wanted to go see what all the ruckus was. My dad put me on his shoulders to see over the gate and watch from afar (I’m sure this was quite the sight for the people blazing past on the interstate now that I think about it). Apparently, this wasn’t good enough for me and I wanted to go in instead but, unfortunately, tickets were sold out.
This is where the fun starts: my parents snuck me in. My Jehovah’s Witness grandmother supposedly had too many margaritas at dinner that night and decided to join us—this is 110 percent out of character for my sober grandma. I say snuck in with a grain of salt, the gate surrounding the outdoor area where the concert was had an opening in it and we just walked in (it’s cooler to say we snuck in). My parents got to see one of their favorite bands live (Skid Row) among others (Warrant and Great White) and I ended up falling asleep on the bleachers all while my grandma almost got in a fight with other members of the crowd.
I think my coolness level peaked at the age of five.
Editors Pick: “18 and Life” by Skid Row