My kids are at a fun age. Jessica is 14, and Taylor is 12, but at 6'1" the guy is all teenager. Something we have in common is that we all love the right kind of rock and roll. (Think about it: rock and roll has been around since the 1950's in various ever-changing sub-styles--and anyone who loved it as a kid as I did probably still loves versions of it, at least at heart. I'll be a rockin' grampa someday.)So I tell J and T that the next time their favorite band Switchfoot comes to town, I'll buy the three of us tickets. (Mom loves to rock, but isn't a Switchfoot fan. She's still cool, don't worry.)
So I see Switchfoot is coming in October, and grab the tickets. And it's not just Switchfoot--Relient K is opening--oh, and a band named Ruth too. I've not heard of Ruth. I found myself wondering if my next door neighbor, Ruth B., our Harley-ridin' friend had decided to start a band.
Anyhow, everyone's excited. And Dad is cool. For the moment.
Dad didn't realize that somewhere along the road into forties-hood, he should have started to pay attention to where a concert is being held. Does the venue have actual seats or no? This is important. Dad was about to learn what no seats ("general admission") meant.
Mind you, I am quite familiar with things like "mosh pits" and stage diving and the like. Nothing new to me. But I was not prepared to spend four hours in a sea of constantly moving, swirling, jostling, WRESTLING humanity. On the positive side, that night the most popular workout dvd had nothing up on me.
All the while I kept my hands on my kids--because the swirling sea of humanity kept trying to drive us apart at every moment. At one point, I looked at my right hand and discovered that it was not resting around Jessica's shoulder, but on some other girl's shoulder. Much to my surprise, I think I had a date with someone who was not Diane and didn't know it. I hope no one publishes that in a blog.
Don't get me wrong. I very much enjoyed myself at this concert, despite the constant physical exertion! J & T and I spent the concert quite close to the stage, experienced our favorite bands up close and personal, got some great photos--and totally enjoyed hearing live some of our favorite songs. It's a very fun and fulfilling thing for a dad to be able to sing the lyrics to a (morally upright) rock song right along with his kids. And, to tell you the truth, as I think back, I can't imagine my dad being at my rock concert, singing along with me. I have to think that part of that would have been cool.
Do you ever think you're cool and then find out you're not? Relient K introduced a song called "The 80's Song." Everyone screamed. J & T screamed. Jessica yelled to me and T "I LOVE THIS SONG!" T was pumped. I was pretty pumped too, because I grew up in the 80's. I am the 80's man. I went to both high school and college in the 80's. I AM the 80's. I knew that this was my song, even though I had not heard it yet.
and i'm only gonna pierce my left ear
and i've been working on this mustache all summer long
and my favorite band will always be tears for fears
and i'm gonna wear a pink tux to the prom (a pink tux to the prom)
doo doo, a doo doo doo, pink tux to the prom
doo doo, a doo doo doo, pink tux to the prom
i am gonna wear a pink tux to prom
live without a care... what could possibly be better?
I was suddenly not cool. Dude. I wore pink once in the 80's. And what my wife calls "toilet paper pants." (Don't ask.) And skinny ties. But I am vindicated, because they are back in and my kids think skinny ties are cool.
Then relient k did a song called Sadie Hawkins Dance. My kids asked if I knew Sadie Hawkins. I said "no" but that I had tried to dance with her once. In a pink tux.
The Sadie Hawkins Dance, in my khaki pants
There's nothing better oh oh oh
The girls ask the guys, it's always a surprise
There's nothing better--baby do you like my sweater?
It was a riot--a great laugh. How fun was that. It made me want to go home and put on my khaki pants.
But for four hours I had to literally expend my energy in this pushing, non-chaired, sea of teenage humanity in order to stay linked with my kids. Big time pushing, shoving, surging--literally like an ocean. It was a was body-to-body, pressed-up-against-the-guy-who-doesn't-think-deoderant-is-relevant kind of four hour experience. We left the venue with our clothes wringing wet from sweat--it looked like we had been caught in a rainstorm.
The night was both tons of fun and very frustrating. Tons of fun with the bands and the best two kids in the world. Frustrating to be in that world and have to fight to stay on your feet and stay in a place where you could see, fight to stay together.
I think that's why it lives in my memory. It's a living metaphor for me. I feel like I'm fighting in this world to stay in my kids' lives. Fighting to stay linked to them. Fighting to be seen as relevant. Fighting, wrestling to help them understand what real life is--desperately wanting them to see what's right and what's wrong, to see who Jesus really is and what living for Him is really about. And desperately hoping that God will help me help them to not get lost in the swirling, wrestling sea of humanity that will take them under.
And I'm fighting and sweating and wrestling. I confess I understand the 80's better. But I'm still rocking and still contending for real life and trying to live it out for myself and in front of my family and friends.
