I know that my age, marital status, and number of children preclude me from the cool kids’ club. And I’m okay with that.
There are probably cool parents’ clubs, or even cool mommy blogging clubs, but I doubt I qualify for those either. I strongly suspect that there’s a minimum salary requirement that we don’t reach. An income level that enables laptops, plus childcare and housekeeping help. Or an attention level concerning online ads and stats that I haven’t a clue about.
And I’m okay with all of that too. (Although I would kill someone under the conditions that 1. I wouldn’t get caught and 2. Someone would come thoroughly clean my house for me twice a week — even just for a couple of months. And/or organize my office.)
With all of this in mind, I went to go see Green Day last night.
And it was awesome.
Honestly, I don’t even know if Green Day is cool anymore. And I don’t care. The audience last night certainly thought they were — I have never been to a show where the audience could sing the ENTIRE first verse of a song (“Boulevard of Broken Dreams”) on their own. Or where a teenage girl was called upon to come up on the stage and play guitar for a song (“Jesus of Suburbia”).
I just know that going to a loud (and it was freaking loud) rock concert was something I really needed to do. Not because it made me feel cool (again). It made me feel care-free. All that mattered was the music, for about three hours.
The Green Day show was a big barrel of rollicking fun, as well as bombastic loud rock and roll music. The threesome from California has transformed into a six-piece arena band, complete with confetti cannons, pyrotechnics, and crowd singalongs. (For a review that pretty much says the stuff I would say if I were actually reviewing the show, see Scott Mervis’ review in the PG.)
The energy was non stop, the music was loud as hell, and I felt cleansed. Cleansed of my worries. Free, just for a tiny space of time. Ageless (although neither child-free or single, curiously enough — well, DearDR did come with me, so that probably explains the not-feeling-single thing).
I’m back in the real world today, feeling like I’m facing more than ever.
Going to Green Day taught me something, though (aside from the fact that Billie Joe Armstrong has a fantastic laugh). It taught me that I have access to something that can make me utterly forget about my cares for awhile. Something I had forgotten.
Countdown to Spa Day: Two days.
Red Pen Mama 