I turned thirty-two earlier this month. Some days I feel kind of old. You know how it is. My moment of clarity about my age came in November 2006.
I went to Portland to see Moonspell, Katatonia, Daylight Dies and Agalloch.
My love for Moonspell is legendary. In my circle, anyway.
It had been two years since I'd seen them last and that was just too long.
The whole show was great. I'm not too into doom metal. But I adore Daylight Dies and Katatonia has a special place in my heart so this was a great line-up.
All was going well until Moonspell's set. I lost my motherfucking mind. Seriously.
I screamed, sang along, headbanged, all that. Had a monstrously good time.
I've no doubt I made an ass of myself. But this is my favorite band and I was worshiping at the altar.
I stumbled out of there, soaked in sweat and hurting. It just got worse as we walked back to our hotel. I could not hold my head up, my neck hurt so bad.
I woke up in agony and spent the next two weeks slathered in Icy Hot. Yes.
Grandma hurt herself headbanging.
So, I'm old. Which is why I did not move much at the Megadeth show. I was afraid of injuring myself again. However, screaming is still an option and I'm only mildly hoarse.
I fear for the day that I don't want to go to a concert because it's too loud (I wear earplugs. Always have.) or too crowded. Then it will be time to consider the Drano cocktail.