A while back, a friend asked about first concerts. You know the type of question: What was your 1st car (’73 government surplus AMC Ambassador station wagon–top that for ugly!), What was your 1st pet? (a Boston terrier–Lady Noble Blue (edit-the Mimi corrects me. It was Noble Lady Blue. Forgive me for screwing up a pedigreed name. I was one! I called her Boo or Blue)–given to me for my 1st birthday by my great-grandparents), etc.
Anyway, I assumed my friend was referring to big, popular music-type concerts. As the daughter of a musician, I’ve been to many concerts of the symphonic and choral variety as an attendee, volunteer, or participant. Of the typical rock or country concert, I have only attended a handful.
My first was at the tender age of 12ish. My mother and a friend of hers took me to see Fleetwood Mac. That’s a pretty cool first concert in anybody’s book. I clearly remember 4 things from this event. The first was Stevie Nicks standing on stage, wearing a flow-y, handkerchief-type dress, standing in front of a fan which blew everything around. She was probably singing Rhiannon, but I don’t remember for sure. My preteen self thought it was cool. Second, I remember Christine McVie apologize for John McVie’s absence from the stage; he apparently ate some bad fish.
After that, the two things I remember weren’t so much fun. There was the drunk-off-his-keister dude who plopped his smelly self on the steps next to me and proceeded to drink, smoke, yell, and flick his Bic while falling over into my lap. Mom removed me to the next seat and called for security clean-up on aisle 5. That was fun.
As we were leaving, another, equally stoned/drunk/stupid guy tried to stop me from leaving. Not the thing to do in front of a Momma Bear. Nope. I do not recommend it.
Needless to say, that experience set the tone for subsequent concerts. For my 16th birthday, my dad got me and 3 friends tickets to see Van Halen. I only remember David Lee Roth’s backside-less leather jeans that he waggled around on stage (why did I think that was cool?), and the guy who tried to pick me up after the concert. Fortunately, my friends possessed more sense than me and told him off.
Then there was the Journey concert with mi (future) espouso, his brother, my brother, and whoever my brother was dating at the time. I think the concert was good, but I don’t remember because a couple of girls decided to park themselves in the aisle to smoke their joints, block my view, and sing along (badly and loudly). It took me about twenty minutes to get mi (future) espouso to have security remove them from the vicinity. One would think with me beating on his arm for that long, he might have gotten the message a little quicker. I might have been a little upset by the ordeal.
Any excitement about going to see someone live has since been squashed. I’ll go to see someone if it’s a quieter venue or if it’s part of another event like a ballgame.
That’s enough about my concert experiences. Feel free to share yours. If you can top the 1st car category, I’m sorry…so, so sorry.