Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Much like the downpour blanketing the neighborhood right now, this month–with 11 packed days to go–feels like the proverbial fire hose from which I may very literally be drinking. When I look back at our last two posts, the underlying tone seems to be hopeful, and I don’t think I’m in quite the same place tonight. You could say last Tuesday and Thursday were the story I’d like to tell: how, beset on all sides by responsibility, I ultimately prevailed, borne by sheer dint of will and the strength of my convictions. The real ending may be markedly different, though. We’ll see.
Kid Rock and Lynyrd Skynrd will both be in town this weekend, and despite my best efforts to avoid this concert, it appears I’ll be going. For most of the attendees, I imagine such events are chances to unwind, opportunities to get roaring drunk against a live soundtrack. But for me, I’m going out of morbid curiosity and, more importantly, because it will be free. This time, however, I won’t be nearly as prepared. This might be a good thing. One positive by-product of being busy, I’ve realized, is the propensity to just do things, rather than overthink them.
This will be a shot at normalcy, in other words, at least for a Sunday. Certainly I won’t be completely ignorant. I recall seeing Kid Rock on TRL in high school, for example, and witnessing his debilitating inability to wear a shirt, which I believe he’s overcome in recent years by donning the American flag in varying configurations. And Lynyrd Skynyrd? I’ve played “Freebird” on Guitar Hero. So, y’know. I also suspect you won’t find their known works on NPR. And clearly they’re unaware that real vowels exist.
Other than that, I’m going with a clean slate, ready to let the experience shape me as it will. I see two immediate possibilities on Sunday night: either I will emerge a more learned person, or I will be dead, facedown in a pool of PBR, vomit, and cigarette butts, shot by an authentic Confederate-era revolver because I hailed another concertgoer’s wife as a “sir.”