Summer concert festivals? No thanks
Summer is a third of the way done and I haven’t yet ventured to one outdoor music festival venue.
Frankly, I’m OK with this development in my life.
Look, there was a time when this would have been a major crisis in my summer plans. Back when I was a young, bright, shiny penny and I had some disposable income to burn, catching as many musicians as I could in one place was akin to Nirvana.
But now that I’m older, wiser and I’ve got that old penny patina, I just have zero urge to pack up a car and head to a hot, sweaty, muddy, overpriced, chaotic venue. I really don’t want to participate in the morning running of the bulls to plunk down lawn chairs in the closest spot to the stage in the slim hope of seeing a music icon.
No. Thank. You.
Listen, outdoor music festivals are fine when you’re in college and even into your mid-twenties. They’re a way to get your groove on with your friends, see some really great musicians and singers, and make memories before you all start settling down with jobs, spouses, 2.3 children and a minivan.
But there is a point in the bell curve that measures enjoyment of attending outdoor music festivals against age of concert-goer, when the return on investment of time and money starts trending downward like a greased up roller coaster.
It sneaks up on you, this point in your life.
First you start having to justify the ticket price when you could spend that on new tires for that minivan, or braces for 2 of the 2.3 children. Back in those shiny penny days, you didn’t have to worry about the refrigerator dying or the septic backing up in the yard—those were the landlord’s problems. Now, you are the landlord.
Then there’s the effort to pack and prepare for three days of freedom. It used to be you’d grab a swimsuit, some shorts, a couple of pairs of flip-flops, an ATM card and a hat and you were good to go. But now that you’re older, you also grab a case of water, four bottles of sunscreen of varying SPFs, and enough hand sanitizer and bug spray to drop a rhino. You have to line up childcare or pet care, arrange for someone to water your tomatoes and lawn, and figure out potty stops on the road trip to the venue.
Look, going to outdoor concerts at a certain age becomes just a never-ending line. You stand in a security line before standing in line for seats. You stand in line to buy the drinks. You stand in line at the porta-potties to get rid of the drinks. You stand in line for merchandise. At the end of the day it’s the line of cars leaving the venue that takes an hour just to get out of the parking lot. If you’re really lucky, you’ll hear snippets of who’s singing on stage while standing in line.
It’s at this point the bell curve plummets to the basement for me.
You know what I would pay good money to watch? The same concert, live or recorded, on television, from my comfy couch in my living room, where the drinks are cheap, the air conditioning is cold, and there are no lines.
Oh, I may be old and burdened with responsibilities today, but there’s a tiny part of me (most likely hidden behind my liver) that thinks back on the old days with a small smile and wishes she could do it all over again.
Thankfully I’m past that point on the bell curve.
Jennifer M. Latzke can be reached at 620-227-1807 or [email protected].
