If It's Good, Do It Twice

 Along with our past knowledge in music comes our future. I was little but I remember it like it was yesterday, my first concert. I was eight and my parents were taking my brother and I to see Jimmy Buffett, the rock star of our household. Being downtown in Detroit was always a blast and I loved walking under the lights of Greek Town, but this time I was on a mission. When we arrived, Hawaiian shirts filled the crowd and I felt right at home. Walking to our seats was like trying to make it through a maze since I was tiny. Once we got to our seats I stood on top of mine so I could see and stared down the stage anxiously waiting. When Jimmy walked out on stage the lights blazed and the crowd went wild. So did I. I knew every word to every song, and it was the only time my Mom let me sing “Why don’t we get drunk and screw,” out loud. I didn’t know what it meant but I thought it was an awesome song anyway. Beach balls crowd surfed from one edge of the stadium to the other, and the guy behind us puked everywhere. I asked my parents what was wrong with him and they told me he had the flu. I believed them and actually felt bad for him. As he continued on, so did I. I jammed so hard that night my throat hurt, and I vowed to never forget it. I never wanted to leave. I thought to myself, “This is paradise…”

By 21 I was working in real estate, smothered in paperwork, in desperate need of a break. That just happened to be the day my cousin offered me two tickets to a Jimmy Buffett concert at DTE because two friends couldn’t make it. How could I say no? Amy, my friend I worked with was down for the adventure, so we shut the office down like we owned it two hours early and headed down 75 toward our escape. It was a sunny summer day and this time I knew my experience would be a lot different. We sat on the back of the car drinking coronas, making friends with any parrotheads we came into contact with. Once we entered, smiling faces lit the way to the Margaritas. They were delicious. Jimmy came out on stage and once again the crowd went wild, only this time I was big enough to see him over the sea of people. My $9 drink spilled everywhere and I could care less. I still knew every word to every song, but this time when I sang “Why don’t we get drunk and screw,” I knew what it meant and thought it was true. A guy hanging over the edge of the fence puking made me laugh out loud because I knew he had the brown bottle flu. Jimmy ended the show singing the Bob Dylan classic “Everybody must get stoned,” and everyone did. As the lights blazed yet again, this time I also saw the blaze of the entire crowd. Everyone was carefree, happy and hammered. I then thought to myself, "O, so THIS is what it's all about?!" It's funny how our views change yet stay the same as the years go by.