When I'm Sixty-Four
When did I get old?
Shouldn't there be a warning of some sort? An alarm, a flashing light, a nice postcard from God saying "Dear Gryph, you are now getting long in the tooth, Love God"? Something. Instead it just creeps up on you until one day you discover that the world is moving and you are not. It seems like you go to bed one night a member of the "cool" culture and wake up the next day not understanding a damn thing kids say and wondering what the hell that noise is and how they can get away with calling it music?"
I've known I was getting old for a couple of years, since I hit 30. But I didn't realize I'd officially gotten old until earlier this week.
For any of you who live in the middle Tennessee area, you can't help but know it's once again time for Bonnaroo, the three day Woodstock-esque festival on a farm in Manchester. It's been going on for a couple of years now and I've always kind of wanted to go, but there's never been a band on there that I loved enough to brave the traffic headaches... until this year.
This year I browse the Bonnaroo lineup only to discover that one of my favorite artists of all time, John Prine, is playing. I don't miss John Prine shows. I've seen Prine three times in three different states. So having him about thirty miles away is a dream come true, right?
You'd think...
In my younger days, I spent an unthinkable amount of my income on concerts. I averaged 5-8 shows a year at the big venue, Starwood Amphitheater, and about one every two weeks at clubs and bars around Nashville. If I was bored one night, I'd scrape up some change, jump in my car, and head for Nashville. I'd go see bands I'd never heard of, as long as they seemed to be somewhere in the vicinity of the genre I listened to. I braved ice storms, flood warnings, tornado warnings, torrential downpours at outdoor venues, and really bad bar food to get my concert fix.
So a three day show with several bands I like, headlined by my idol, is a no-brainer, right? Well, it would be, except for that little part about being old.
Where I used to be perfectly willing to brave the elements and eat Ramen for a week to get to a good show. It wouldn't even have been a question. So why was my mind now coming up with every excuse I could think of to not make this one?
Well, I told myself, I really shouldn't take another three days off work so soon after taking a week for my honeymoon. And I've got reports due on Monday that I really should stay and work on. And the van needs brakes too. And an oil change. Oh, and didn't we dip into the emergency fund to fix that transmission? Better replace that. Where would I get camping supplies at this late date? Do we have enough to cover rent if I go to this show. And I have to take Joan along. Can't leave the wife behind. That's a second ticket. Ooooh, and food too. That's always high at these things. And my back has been kicking up something awful the last couple of weeks. Sleeping on the ground can't be good for that......
STOP!!!!
That's when I realized it. I'd turned into my father. My father who has been to one concert in the last two decades (Elton John, his favorite artist). The guy who always said "those things are really expensive." The guy who always talked about his bills and having to take the wife along and how booth food never agrees with him.
I'm my dad. Not necessarily a bad thing, my dad's pretty cool for an old guy. But there's the rub. I'm not ready to be "pretty cool for an old guy". I'm not ready to be anything for an old guy. I'm not ready to BE an old guy. How did this happen?
So that's it. I'm old. No trip to Bonnaroo for me. No John Prine concert. No three days of rock and roll. I'll have a Metamucil on the rocks. And make it a double.
-Gryph
"I don't believe in dying. It's been done. I'm working on a new exit. Besides, I can't die now - I'm booked."
-George Burns
NP: John Prine: Fair and Square
Shouldn't there be a warning of some sort? An alarm, a flashing light, a nice postcard from God saying "Dear Gryph, you are now getting long in the tooth, Love God"? Something. Instead it just creeps up on you until one day you discover that the world is moving and you are not. It seems like you go to bed one night a member of the "cool" culture and wake up the next day not understanding a damn thing kids say and wondering what the hell that noise is and how they can get away with calling it music?"
I've known I was getting old for a couple of years, since I hit 30. But I didn't realize I'd officially gotten old until earlier this week.
For any of you who live in the middle Tennessee area, you can't help but know it's once again time for Bonnaroo, the three day Woodstock-esque festival on a farm in Manchester. It's been going on for a couple of years now and I've always kind of wanted to go, but there's never been a band on there that I loved enough to brave the traffic headaches... until this year.
This year I browse the Bonnaroo lineup only to discover that one of my favorite artists of all time, John Prine, is playing. I don't miss John Prine shows. I've seen Prine three times in three different states. So having him about thirty miles away is a dream come true, right?
You'd think...
In my younger days, I spent an unthinkable amount of my income on concerts. I averaged 5-8 shows a year at the big venue, Starwood Amphitheater, and about one every two weeks at clubs and bars around Nashville. If I was bored one night, I'd scrape up some change, jump in my car, and head for Nashville. I'd go see bands I'd never heard of, as long as they seemed to be somewhere in the vicinity of the genre I listened to. I braved ice storms, flood warnings, tornado warnings, torrential downpours at outdoor venues, and really bad bar food to get my concert fix.
So a three day show with several bands I like, headlined by my idol, is a no-brainer, right? Well, it would be, except for that little part about being old.
Where I used to be perfectly willing to brave the elements and eat Ramen for a week to get to a good show. It wouldn't even have been a question. So why was my mind now coming up with every excuse I could think of to not make this one?
Well, I told myself, I really shouldn't take another three days off work so soon after taking a week for my honeymoon. And I've got reports due on Monday that I really should stay and work on. And the van needs brakes too. And an oil change. Oh, and didn't we dip into the emergency fund to fix that transmission? Better replace that. Where would I get camping supplies at this late date? Do we have enough to cover rent if I go to this show. And I have to take Joan along. Can't leave the wife behind. That's a second ticket. Ooooh, and food too. That's always high at these things. And my back has been kicking up something awful the last couple of weeks. Sleeping on the ground can't be good for that......
STOP!!!!
That's when I realized it. I'd turned into my father. My father who has been to one concert in the last two decades (Elton John, his favorite artist). The guy who always said "those things are really expensive." The guy who always talked about his bills and having to take the wife along and how booth food never agrees with him.
I'm my dad. Not necessarily a bad thing, my dad's pretty cool for an old guy. But there's the rub. I'm not ready to be "pretty cool for an old guy". I'm not ready to be anything for an old guy. I'm not ready to BE an old guy. How did this happen?
So that's it. I'm old. No trip to Bonnaroo for me. No John Prine concert. No three days of rock and roll. I'll have a Metamucil on the rocks. And make it a double.
-Gryph
"I don't believe in dying. It's been done. I'm working on a new exit. Besides, I can't die now - I'm booked."
-George Burns
NP: John Prine: Fair and Square
posted by Gryphon at 7:31 PM
6 Comments:
You are NOT old!
The whipper-snapper thinks he's old, eh? Feh! What do you know from old? Pass me my cane, sonny, so I can give you a good wallop.
Meanwhile... I heard a story about Bonnaroo on NPR today... in San Diego. Who'd've ever thunk MANCHESTER would make it big? Glad I'm missing the traffic, though. Yeesh.
I saw a thing on one of the news sites a little while ago about Bonnaroo and Ozzfest being the two shows that were ushering back in the festival show, after Lollapalooza and Vans Warped both went bankrupt.
Life BEGINS at 40- and continues for about 80 years beyond that, so it is too early to be thinking of yourself as old. But you ain't a kid anymore... and that's a good thing. Really. The good news is that you will get to be a kid again if you ever have grandchildren. I myself am going through my second childhood for the fourth time. Think of the eulogy for Michael O'Sullivan (Waking Ned Devine); "we grew old together, but sometimes, when we laughed, we grew young." Keep laughing, young Gryphon. Regards to your good lady.
I think the quote that fits me most right now is from a Todd Snider tune.
"Sometimes, growing up
I think I'm getting wiser
and then other times
I swear I'm getting old...
When I was a child
I spoke as a child
But all I heard was
how I should get ahead
When I was a child
I spoke as a child
I wish I could remember
what I said..."
And so... are you going to be 64 before you post again? Huh? Huh?
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