I'm an aging Gen-Xer. As such, I rounded up a babysitter last night, and headed into town for the R.E.M. concert.
It was an outdoor venue. As such, it had no seating. No gently sloping, grassy knoll. No splintered, weathered bench nor crumbling curb.
I spent 5 1/2 hours last night walking, standing, swaying or generally hitting that funky beat. I did not avail myself of the festering porta-potties, even for the chance to sit down for 30 seconds. My bladder is legend.
At one point I turned and yelled into Mister's ear, "DOES YOUR BACK ACHE AS MUCH AS MINE!"
"NO!" he yelled back, "BUT MY HIPS ARE KILLING ME!"
I can't bounce as vigorously to "It's the End of the World" as I used to. And I don't feel the pathos of "Losing My Religion" quite as keenly as I once did in high school. But Michael Stipe was charming, his voice held for the entire concert, and they ended the show with "Man on the Moon". Cuz' that's how it should be.
Hey, Baby! Are you having fun?
Why, yes Michael. Yes I am.