The Funniest Thing of the Week

I used to think concerts were the ne plus ultra of the ne plus ultra life I was somehow missing.

And a few were more than fantastic, experiences that were most certainly this-one-goes-to-eleven kinds of experiences.

A few that were like this:
-Trip Shakespeare
-Green Day when they opened for Bad Religion, even though the friends I went with, they thought it was lame; excellent ride home, very late
-Fugazi, particularly the ride home
-Some weird show, Lollop For Losers, held on the West Bank in the summer of 1993

Maybe that was it. I went to more that had less significance. Come to think of it, I think all these shows were in 1993, except maybe for the Fugazi show, which may have been in early 94.

I liked the drive home, the whole experience of getting there from my relatively littler town with friends who'd been driving less than a year. I liked being in the city at night, downtown. And I liked being with my friends, who had a glow about them that we carried together as we wandered around, very tired, looking for the car. I liked that everything we did was an adventure and more fun and more independent than anything else. I liked that everything was the making for an excellent story. It was really as close to being a rock star as I ever care to get.

I saw Sigur Ros in May or April of this year and found it to be a completely different experience. Okay, that's not what I thought about at the time. At the time I was just really sick and I enjoyed it. But it wasn't like I was looking at my life through a magnifying glass. Which is for the best. I've got more shit to do these days, and I'm not so consumed with an intended rebellion.

Then again, I'm sure that the interior decorating of my brain hasn't changed. I'm probably consumed in the same way with very similar things, like girls and other such activities in which i feel the need to be affirmed, and stressed out to the very same degree with different things. Having a job instead of getting into college, the general repair of my living situation rather than how pissed I am at my family.

Music and going to concerts, however, is an area of my life that has seemed to dry up and lose significance without having been replaced with some other driving and angry plaintive passion.

Hm. Maybe this is a symptom of treated depression. I become a floating point operation machine instead of a serial processor, or whatever it's called. Instead of focusing intensely on one thing and then moving onto the next, or instead of being consumed with the completion of one thing and not being able to let it go before finding another, I can sort of do multiple things at one time. None is super important--okay, they become important only when they're neglected--but it's maintenance, not creation.