A moment of quiet introspection

Last night I learned something important about myself, and I learned it at a rock and/or roll concert[1]. For those of you who don’t know, I had the opportunity to see one of my favorite bands[2] in concert at the fabulous Fox Theatre in downtown Oakland California last night. It was awesome. Face meltingly awesome.

The band looked and sounded great, and they had hired a trumpet player for the tour who looked like a young Fidel Castro. I didn’t get the opportunity to go to many concerts when I lived in the Florida because:

a) Venues in Florida tend to suck[3]

b) None of my friends like the same music as me

c) Most of the bands that I want to see only came to Tampa, and I didn’t want to drive that far to see a show by myself

d) People who went to concerts in Florida tended to be… horrible, horrible people

I suppose I should take a moment to elaborate on number[4] d. Here’s the thing about Orlando: it’s kind of a transient town. When I say transient, I mean that the city is one of the vacation capitals of the world, so everything has a certain air of… impermanence about it. Untold thousands of vacationers visit the City Beautiful every week, and we all know that when you’re on vacation you tend to adopt a certain “These people don’t know me, so I’ll do whatever I want to, regardless of how stupid it may be[5].” At some point, for whatever reason, this ‘do as you please’ attitude that the vacationers brought with them migrated from the vacationers and came to live in the hearts and minds of Florida’s permanent residents[6].

That said, I’ve had the pleasure of seeing several bands in concert[7], and I’ve noticed one thing in common at every show: the dude who always wants to start a mosh pit. Odds are, if you’ve been to a secular music concert any time after 1992, you’ve seen this dude. Granted, he isn’t the same dude in every instance[8], but they all look enough alike that they may as well be the same dude. Typical indicators that you’ve seen this dude at show if:

a) He’s slightly overweight[9]

b) He has a head of greasy black hair like a mop

c) He has pushed his way through the crowd to get as close to the stage as humanly possible

d) He is obviously there by himself

e) He jumps up and down, like a pogo stick, wildly thrashing his arms about with total disregard for those around him[10]

Just look at all these angry, angry young men.

Mind you, this is not a rant against the mosh pit in general. I’m a rational man[11], and I understand that these things have their purpose. For instance, when I went to see Coheed and Cambria, I understood why there was a crowd of kids who wanted to burn off some anger by jumping around to all the loud, angry music. It lets them vent off some steam, and the action is in keeping with the overall aesthetic of their music. What I don’t understand is why I seem to see this at every show I’ve attended.

As I said, I can understand this course of action at a concert where the music is a bit more aggressive, but not at a National show. As I’ve tried to express[12] in the past, the National tends to make more music that is more on the mellow side. This is reflected in the caliber of person attending the show: lots of people in flannel shirts with pork pie hats and bushy beards[13]. You know, a real mellow crowd. Sure they have one or two up-tempo songs, and I suppose I understand his need to flail about mindlessly during these songs, but this nut-bar was pogoing like crazy through their entire set. The only time I ever saw him stop was when he would pause to lay his head down on the barricade that prevented him from climbing onto the stage, as if in prayer. Even when he put his head down, he still flailed his arms in the air as if to say “I may need to catch my breath, but I’m still rocking!”

Which leads me to the thing that I learned as a result[14]. I’ve never gotten as excited about anything in my life as that kid did about seeing the National perform. I get excited about things, but I’ve never once become so excited about something that I felt the need to have a near religious experience because of it. Which makes me wonder - is he the weirdo, or am I? Is it better to get that excited about things, or to carry your self with the same quiet dignity that Lon Chaney did?

Does it make me odd that I don’t become more excited about things? Am I missing something here? The mind reels in horror.

Ya’ll stay classy… wherever ya’ll is…

Blakely A-dam Sumner

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[1] And no, I didn’t learn how to do hard drugs or worship the devil.

[2] The National.

[3] Except for the House of Blues. That is a delightful place to see a show in.

[4] Wait… that should be letter. I’m such an idiot sometimes.

[5] I ain’t saying it’s right. I’m just saying it happens.

[6] Which explains why there are so many jerks in Orlando. That’s right. I said it.

[7] Red Hot Chili Peppers, Foo Fighters, Better than Ezra (on 5 awful occasions), Coheed and Cambria (3 times!), Death Cab for Cutie, and the National.

[8] If it is the same dude, I want to know how he can afford to fly across the world to all exotic locations, and how he has conquered aging.

[9] Not Orca fat, just caring a little pooch.

[10] Which, upon further reflection, probably explains why he came to the concert by himself. No one wants to go anywhere with someone that they know will slap them in the face.

[11] Well… mostly.

[12] To varying degrees of success

[13] Which were vaguely reminiscent of the 1970s ear brawny paper towel man.

[14] I’ll bet you thought I’d forgotten.