It’s heartbreaking

Tastes change. People change. But what if something changes that you wish wouldn’t have? (And I’m not talking about wrinkles and bulges!) What if you desperately want to like something, but can’t find it in you?

We went to Merriweather Post Pavilion last night. I’ve been there probably a hundred times to see various concerts. The Grateful Dead, Jackson Brown, James Taylor, Joni Mitchell, Santana, Crosby Stills Nash & Young and more over the years. (Even in the past couple years to see The Dead with Joan Osborne and String Cheese Incident…) It was like a mecca to my friends and me. It’s an outdoor venue – free & easy and loud and fun.

Last night, we saw The Black Crowes and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. I was really looking forward to the show. I put on my cut-offs (I hear they’re in style again) and a tank – not to mention the hoop earrings – and was ready for fun. (It’s easy to forget how old you are when rock and roll is involved. And besides, half the crowd was my age and older!)

There was a huge storm. It subsided before the show began. And we had seats under the pavilion, so we were good to go. But our seats were wet – so Andrew had to go get paper towels to dry them before the music started. This in itself is not so terrible, I admit, but can you imagine worrying about a wet tush when you’re 18? But I digress….

The Black Crowes came on. They sounded terrific. A little loud for me, but still very pleasant. The crowd was oddly subdued and everyone sat nicely and listened. I was enjoying myself. By song 4, I was ready for a break, but hung in there. Then, after a while, it was break time. A long break. Really long. Later found out that Tom Petty’s plane was late leaving New York. The good news was, plenty of time to wait in the ridiculous line for $10 Coronas.

Then Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers came on to rowdy cheers. And a standing ovation. One that never stopped. The crowd stood the entire hour and a half that he played. Did I mention the heat? The humidity? By the third song, I thought I was going to pass out. So I sat down. Couldn’t see a thing, mind you, but I sat down. I got up every song or two, but spent a lot of time sweating and sitting. I did enjoy the music. I did not enjoy the concert so much.

So I’ve changed. I’m sad about it, honestly. But I have to finally admit to myself that big sweaty crowds of muddy people are not my cup of tea. Getting older is depressing. I used to love those sweaty crowds.