Coming Home Songs, Strong Shoulders and Midnight Whoppers

“Buying the whole bar a drink and breaking up a fight
He’s one disco-dancing fool
I’m talking about cool-Doug at night”

November 9, 2024, 2:11 pm (EST): Grilled cheese sizzling on the stovetop; extra gooey and slightly charred. I’ve been preparing this for her since she was five. Perfect pregame snack – just dip in ketchup and repeat.

4:34 pm: Uber drive confirmed for the fourth time (can someone say OCD).

5:01 pm: We meet one of the passengers sharing our ride, a 12 lb. terrier named Mellow; pretty damn awesome pooch.

6:02 pm: Two blocks from Terminal 5, (our destined venue, which will fill the evening with rousing melodies of Sammy Rae & The Friends). Before we can assume our position in line, so we can be near the front when the doors expose our entry to freedom, frivolity, and family – a pit stop is required. Too much agua and traffic have resulted in my need for this detour. Gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee; we find a small supermarket and get to the glorious door that reads Men’s Room and … you need a f*cking code to get in!!! Oh the humanity!

6:43 pm: The line is crawling forward …

7:02 pm: ENTRY!!

7:04 pm and 33 seconds: Daughter alleviates my paralytic fear of being crushed by Generation Z and their plodding pilgrimage toward the entertainers; by agreeing we do not need to stand 11 feet from the stage during the next three hours. Instead, we can ascend the stairs of this three-level dimly lit, oddly conceived concert hall. Oh the humanity – thank you my dear child. This act of altruism will not be forgotten.

7:47 pm: It is time to grab some libations.

8:29 pm: Opening act captures the attention of the ready and willing and waiting and singing and believing spectators of the greatest gift of life – live music.

9:04 pm and 22 seconds: Perhaps one more cocktail.

Let’s go with 9:36 pm: Crescendos of Cool Doug at Night reach the rafters and we all boogie down, as if we were in The Bronx.

“He’s the paradigm of neighbourliness
Men and women see him and they sigh
He’s the patron saint of polyester”

10:13 pm: Concert is going too quickly – slooowww doowwwn!!!!

Around 11 pm of thereabouts: ENCORES, which include a cover from Toto and the Coming Home Song.

Time stops – as my daughter briefly rests her head on my shoulder. My gratitude is immeasurable in words, circadian rhythms, or beats per minute, and suddenly anxiety, (which is customarily omnipresent), slowly melts away. Recalling the moments throughout her almost 21-year journey thus far, when she found a haven on that space, emotions engulf me, and lift my soul, which no longer seems trapped by the confines of my body.

Ride home arrives somewhere between 11:15-11:22 pm: This guy doesn’t possess the communicative charm our first driver did & there is no pooch to speak of.

After Midnight: We return to the abode and witness a large brown paper bag on the doorsteps, oh wait, oh wait – mmmmmmmm BURGERS & FRIES! Ahhh the advantage of Eats that can be Uberred.

Sometime early November 10, 2024: In our living room we watch a comedy, as we ferociously feast on the King’s offerings.

Next morning circa 11.10.24, 8 am (EST): Prepare to meet the morning head-on, tired but wiser for the time. Before departure, I kiss my little girl on her forehead and say “thank you, I will see you soon.”

Did You Know? The average person is likely to attend between 2 and 5 concerts per year, which could translate to anywhere between 100 and 250 concerts in a lifetime, depending on their age and music interests when considering a typical lifespan.