I stayed home from work today with a distinctly nasty sore throat. Apparently when one is starting to feel feverish and have difficulty swallowing, she should perhaps not go to Black Cat for the Islands concert. You'd think I might have learned my lesson about weeknight rock concerts after a Sunday night The Go! Team incident that (admittedly, after a day of kickball) left me shuffling around like Ozzy Osbourne. But no, we here at EJ Takes Life like to learn things the hard way. Plus, we're getting too damn old for our own good.
It was a good show, but Black Cat crowds tend to the annoying side of reverential. Nineteen-year-old virgins in hooded sweatshirts stand stock still, perhaps occasionally nodding along as they vacantly gaze at the band. Hands in pockets and carefully positioned to be no more than eighteen inches closer to the nearest bystander, they dutifully applaud or, if especially daring, will cry out "Fairfax!" if the lead singer happens to ask where y'all are from.
It's rock and roll as interpreted by Millennials, and I gotta say, I do not approve of what the kids are doing today. What happened to youthful indiscretion, ill-advised moshing and life-threatening injuries sustained in pursuit of music? Kids, your parents partied harder than you when they were your age. Loosen up! Dance a little! The music is peppy and fun and has a good rhythm! Let the music move you! Or, y'know, at least move.
Or maybe you all are trying to be responsible employees and not get yourself sick so that you have to spend all day on your couch sucking on cherry Halls while watching Alias on DVD and telling your cat "That's Jennifer Garner! Mommy has a girl crush on her!"