Rob Zombie, 2005

Growing up I heard adults talk about the hair-band concerts they had been to and how they were freakin awesome! Bands like Motley Crue, Whitesnake, and Bon Jovi. I had heard these bands but figured they were probably as “old” as my parents and might be in a walker on stage – the audacity of a teenagers point-of-view! Then I heard young singers like Clay Walker and Eminem and wanted so badly to see them live.

It would be a few years before my dream came true. I would move to Virginia Beach, or more get stationed there, (that’s another post) and constantly await the next show at the Norva concert hall, or at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, an outdoor venue. The number of bands I saw was no disappointment. I was able to see childhood favorites: MSI, Shinedown, Saliva, Rob Zombie, and Bowling for Soup.

I was introduced to new bands: Halestorm and Army of Freshman; there were plenty others but these were my favorites. I’m the concert goer that gets there early and leaves late. I don’t have to party with the band but staying for signatures, drumsticks, and other memorabilia completes the event. I was fine with a little mosh-pit action now and then, luckily never any fights, but now prefer to just listen.

I thought concerts was a “stage” that everyone went through but it is more likely for a woman to get pregnant than to follow her other dreams. I moved to Jacksonville, the action-concert going slowed and more symphony going was to be had; I use to play an instrument (again, another post) too. Luckily for those pregnant women, Jacksonville has free concerts at The Landing, a semi-circle of businesses surrounding a dock on the river.

The Landing, 2010

 I thought free would be awesome. Free is over-crowded. Free is full of smoke and drunks. Free is full of new bands that I had not heard and no longer wanted to. We once drove four hours, maybe more to see a band. I thought it was going to be great; further reading is always necessary. The “concert” was to be held in an arcade. The first bands really sucked and we found a great Indian place to eat dinner within walking distance.

We came back and were only able to hear two songs before they had to end the show due to curfew. You’ve got to be kidding me?! Are we the oldest ones hear listening? The crowd wasn’t full of eight-year olds but being the only ones old enough to drink was upsetting. Though what I regret more than the beautiful drive and the delicious dinner was the lack of pictures I managed to take; not just here but at all concerts.

I was young, and busy living it up, what ever it is. And so even at concerts where I managed to take “pictures” they came out smears of action or little black boxes full of color the once or twice I got stuck on the lawn. Most times I wouldn’t go to a concert unless I could be within spitting distance of the guitarist – I never got spit on but crowds can get ferocious and the staff would catch the crowd-surfers so I didn’t have to.