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Geocities
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July 10, 1998
Tonight I went to my first "Concert in the Park." It was in this amphitheater right by the coffee house where my mom works, and the bands were all local teenage groups with, from what I saw, more than just a little bit of talent. Not that I actually heard all of them, but I think I'll stick with blind faith on this one.
Anyway, I thought it was a blast. The band playing was really good- the music they made was all original, their songs (when you could actually hear the words) were meaningful, the beat was something you could at least tap your foot to, and the musicians looked like they were really enjoying themselves. They had that wonderful look like they thought the fact that the audience was there was neat, but even if they were alone in a garage they would still play and look the exact same way. And because of that, I enjoyed myself when I tuned out my friends and focused on the people on stage.
And I had to tune out my friends. It wasn't that they were chatting about day-to-day occurrences, or whispering about the weird people sitting two rows in front of us, or even gushing over how great the music was. No, they were complaining to me because I was the one who had suggested going in the first place, and now suddenly they realized that the whole teenage music scene really wasn't for them and they'd really much rather go play a quick game of basketball instead. Finally they annoyed me to the point where I knew the music wouldn't be enough to keep me happy, and I agreed to leave. This was most likely ten minutes before the headliner band- the one I had really come to see- was supposed to go on. Grrrrrr.....
It kind of pisses me off. I mean, these are the people who try to convince me to
quit the choir and join the marching band at our school. They say that the band is truly music,
while the choir is just a bunch of girls screeching or mumbling their hearts out. So I just don't
understand why the wouldn't be open to new musical experiences the way I am. I mean, the
music the band was playing wasn't the kind I listen to all the time, but I still really enjoyed it. On
the way home, one of them talked about how he wanted to become a music teacher. All I could
think was "God help us."