Pete Yorn is living the dream of having a good show: old songs recognized and new ones winding their way in to fans hearts, great graphics to back his show up, a tour in Europe, and girls crazy for his sensuality. The setting makes me idolize musicians and want for some experience of my own. I ask ME if she could sleep with any lead singer, at any time in their career, who would it be? She has to think about it and asks me for my answer. I say Robert Plant circa late 70s. It’s a safe submission (since I can't think too clearly) but an answer to the question none the less. ME comes back with Dave Groul or Beck after she’s had time to think. After she’s asked me for clarification on Robert Plant, (as in, what band did he play for, which is one of the things I love about the old girl). Then she’s revokes it for Eddie Vedder and I have to take back my classic 70s insert and submit Vedder myself; he’s too hot and too in tune with my coming of age.
Standing in the crowd makes me feel like I am old. Not the old that sometimes sneaks in when you're surrounded by twentysomethings in scantily clad hot pants, but rather the old that you feel when you realize going to a concert has become REALLY novel. I haven’t even listened to Pete Yorn’s new album. Suddenly the elastic on my jeans feels obscenely obvious. Still I am having a great time remembering the me that used to be up close to the stage, taking shots and dancing till I sweat. A me who needed no good reason to find herself out on a Thursday night. My new reality has me questioning how these people around me are gearing up to go to work tomorrow. So much has changed.