Concert-nesia

A long time ago (or perhaps a few days or weeks ... I'm a bit fuzzy on the whole time thing lately) I promised Jennifer that I would get back to the subject of the John Denver concert that I went to when I was in the 8th grade. I suppose I've subconsciously been putting it off, because I feel bad that there isn't much to say. I'm sorry, Jennifer ... 8th grade was a long time ago (I'm as old as dirt, you know.)

All I can really remember is that I wore my green t-shirt -- the one with a hood -- because I really loved that t-shirt, and shirts with hoods were in fashion, but not so in fashion that John would lose all respect for me for being a mindless, trend-following fashion hound, because of course, John couldn't really care less about fashion because he was far too fine a human being to care about such superficial nonsense. But, on the other hand, if John should happen to look my way, I thought I would look at least marginally attractive in green, and that was good, because I first needed to catch his eye if I were ever going to get him to think of leaving Annie for a marginally attractive girl who would show him in that brief moment of eye contact that she could appreciate him much more than Annie ever could, and that she knew him to be a deeply soulful human being who deserved only the best, such as a girl who wasn't too terribly caught up in clothes, but cared just enough about them to wear the right t-shirt to his concert.

(Oh, my gosh. I would rather have all my teeth pulled than be 13 again.)

I went, I saw, I listened. He sang. I sighed. I went home.

(I'm sorry, Jennifer.)

And, I have a correction to make to my previous post on concerts, in which I said that the only people I've seen in concert are John Denver and Three Dog Night (both when I was in 8th grade), and Jimmy Buffett. As I was talking with Atticus, I realized that I've also seen Harry Chapin, the Fabulous Thunderbirds, Diana Ross (that was in Las Vegas when I was living a previous incarnation as a product manager and had to travel for business ... I despised Las Vegas and everything it stood for, even in that previous incarnation, so I think I blocked the whole thing out ....), and Dana Scallon (Anne-with-an-e held her hand on stage, and sang "We are One Body" along with lots of other people who piled up there at the end of the show.)

How is it that I forgot all of these other musical experiences?

Given my stunningly bad memory when it comes to my own life, I wouldn't be surprised if I've actually met Elvis.