Feeling Old at an All Ages Show II

Hoodies soaked with new puberty funk line the brick wall outside El Corazon several minutes before door. And I stand amongst them like some sort of Darby O'Gil-esque demented chaperon a full foot taller than most of the teen boys with pot flabby man boobs and too much unruly facial hair. I shift my weight from foot right to foot left and as the Monday evening early spring drizzle persists my own hoodie takes on a similar funk...and I start to blend. When I'm at an all-ages venue I am strangely aware of my own age...especially when I'm there alone.

Finally inside, standing in the "no alcohol zoned underage area" I feel like a lurking creep that should probably be registered with the sex offender registry. When I was "under age" we all thought people like me (now) were total losers. I'm really here for the show...I couldn't give a crap and a half about all the teen angst bullshit stewing around me. The boys at this show out-number the girls easily 30 to 1. The girls that are there are sprinkled thru the mass of boys in black hoodies and head-banger hair (half looking like Hanson, the other half looking like pre-teen cookie cutter versions of every 80's Metal band)...The girls wearing multi-layered tees and young rocker girl hair sulk like wallflowers in the back...fingers working furiously over tiny bright lit screens text messaging who knows who. Only about two or three pep squad-types brave the floor near the stage.

The show itself was fucking incredible...I held my ground and owned my space.

When I was leaving I noticed that some of the parents waiting out front to round up their kids were my age or younger...and I felt weirdly liberated knowing that I was free to go home and answer to no-one. Even on a school night.