Recently dear husband and I had the distinct pleasure of going to a Haley Heynderickx concert here in Seattle. It was at a venue we had never heard of—Ballard Homestead. It’s in the middle of the block in a residential neighborhood, and it kind of looks like two houses that have somehow grown together. Street parking. It has the maximum capacity of 260 people, and the event was sold out.
Fortunately, we got there early, because there was seating for about 25 percent of us, at most. Pews along the outside walls, and then for some reason only about 1/3rd of the available chairs set up and put off to the side of the stage. The rest was open floor with a few standing tables. Many people sat on the floor. Others stood.
I was comfortable in my pew, and Haley’s music certainly didn’t disappoint, but I was kind of uncomfortable in my own skin.
First of all, we were some of the oldest people there, by a fair stretch. But that was the least of it, really. The older I get, the more often I’m becoming the oldest person in the room.
And it’s not like anyone was rude or unwelcoming. Everyone seemed quite nice, in fact. No, what was getting to me was how Seattle hip everyone seemed to be. There were a lot of men with man buns. There was a lot of leather and flannel and skinny jeans and boots. There were long-haired women with partially shaved heads. I think I may have seen the ghost of Kurt Cobain. I even spotted a nose ring or three.
I was never hip or trendy, even when I was young and thin, so being in the presence of all this urban cool made me extremely aware that certain ships have sailed for me. It kind of made me sad. I assume that feeling will become more pervasive within me as the years fly past. That feeling of being left behind.
But while I may not be able to keep up, and would probably look awfully silly if I tried, I sure as hell don’t intend to sit still! I enjoyed the concert way too much for that!
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