Last night my husband and I ventured out to a rock concert. Ok, it’s rock that’s 30 years old, but rock nonetheless. We were a little hurried to get there because we had just finished up having a party after our daughter’s baptism.

Neither one of us knew what to expect since it had been quite some time since we had been to a concert. When we arrived a few minutes late, we scurried to our seats on the floor just a few rows back from the stage. I realized as soon as my eyes had adjusted that I was glad I had changed out of my 3 inch strappy sandals to a more practical slide; we were going to be standing the whole time!

The concert was actually really good. It was a little awkward, though, because we were both sober, a little tired, and not sure how much we should be dancing. I stayed within the realm of bouncing my knees, a little head nodding, and the occasional clapping along. The clapping was fun until I realized that I probably should have nursed or pumped before we left. As time passed, my boobs kept getting bigger and bigger and began to hinder my clapping ability!

At the concert I noticed a few things had changed since I had been to a concert:
When the band members with their big, sweaty hair slowed it down a little, instead of pulling out the lighters, people began waving their cell phones. (Lots of folks were also using the phones to click a few pics of the guys).
At aging rocker concerts, beer is a staple, but burgers and nachos are acceptable, too. To me this is crazy! How does one truly get down while chomping on a pretzel with cheese?

Some things haven’t changed:
Tight pants never go out of style for rockers! The guys all looked pretty good (not my type, but I’ll give credit where credit is due), in fact, I hate to admit the one of the lead singers at age 50 something looked better in his tight white pants than I would have looked in them.

Overall, the music was great and I’m glad that we were able to get out and see a couple of great bands.

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