music makes me...

Ok, i have always loved music.
 In the childhood years i anxiously waited for those symphony evenings at the Orchestra Hall. Everything appealed to me: getting dressed up in 'special' pretty clothing, walking into a glorious 19th century-built castle-like building where giant chandeliers shimmered with their thousand pieces of crystal, shooting rainbows across the gold-adorned walls of the Hall. I stroked the softness of the red velvet of the seats, i stared at the balconies, imagining the royalty that had sat in those very same spots some years ago. And when the orchestra started playing, i was entranced with the sound. The sound came in waves, seemingly from everywhere. It was bigger than me, and it was bigger than everything. Vivid pictures appeared in my imagination, taking me away from reality, making my hyperactive mind calm and peaceful, for once. And, if i ever woke up from that trance, i observed the musicians, watching their concentrated faces, their precise movements, and their polished shoes.
When i got older, the subversive lyrics of the decedent poets and bards grabbed my attention, making me sing out loud. And, when the teenage years struck, the emerging scene of loud rock and punk soothed my aching soul.

Coming to America created a wonderful time of discovery: from struggling to understand the lyrics, to learning about all of the various multicultural directions of music of past and present, as i was flipping the radio stations of my beat up two-seat car as i was rushing across town to make 30 minutes guarantee on the Domino's Pizza delivery.

As i got older, learned, and grew, my music interests became diverse. I hardly missed any local festival, and ran to every concert that evoked my curiosity. When i couldn't afford decent tickets, i grabbed the cheapest and was content just to get in the door. The smoke, the heat, the lack of ventilation, the often rambunctious crowds, - all that didn't phase me. And, even though i would have preferred to be listening from the privacy of some kind of magic ceiling-suspended capsule,  i enjoyed being present, being in the moment, being carried away by sonic waves. I have fallen asleep on the speakers, i have gone to work in the morning after 2 hours of sleep,  on occasion i had to resort to stuffing napkins into my ears to ensure i would still have all my senses by the end of the night, i have driven for 8 hours in a snow blizzard to another city to attend a concert i didn't want to miss, and, finally, i have flown across the county for a concert recommended by my now-husband.

But now something is very different. I still love music, but i rarely want to go. The last few times i managed to make it out to an event, i left a bit disappointed. It is not that the music got worse, it is definitely something else. I no longer enjoy seeing a concert from the last row of the last balcony, from where musicians look like little shivering ants.  When weighing the cost of going to a symphony with my husband on a Friday night, versus our other financial priorities, the more practical needs win. And then, I imagine the long drive that would be required, i calculate the time we would get back and how much of a bite it would take out of our Saturday's agenda.  And, loud indoor concerts no longer seem appealing, since i can no longer tune out that sweaty stink of the drunken youth that would undoubtedly surround me as i struggle to make my way into the main floor, where i could at least see the shapes of the performing musicians. I say to myself - i can see it better on youtube, i can hear it better on the speaker of my car, i don't have to endure this. And so, i don't. A few years back we tried going to an outdoor multi-band concert. We put our blankets on the grass, we docked inconsiderate youth nearly stepping on our heads while they made their way to and fro their buddies' spots, we bought $12 cups of beer, we struggled to hear the actual music behind all the background chatter, we burned on the sun. It was an experience, but not the one i would be compelled to repeat in the near future.

I feel like a party-pooper, i feel like i have lost something. I miss the excitement of the sonic experience, but i don't seem to be able to get it any longer, so i just have to save my money and put them to a better use for a new gymnastics class of my daughter, or another plate of fresh vacation oysters. Getting old sucks, but pretending that nothing has changed sucks even more.