I took my daughter and her friend to a general admission concert – you know, a concert where it is first come, first one up at the front of the stage? The doors opened at 7:30. We got into the line at 3:20 pm and there were already about a hundred people in front of us
Height-wise I just clear the 5’ mark. I nodded as I assessed the first 100 people. Average height 5’8”, a surprisingly average group, except for this one woman and her son. These two pushed the possible average to 5’10”. She was easily 6’4” and her son was maybe 6’2”. I heard a pleasant 5’8” guy behind me say to his date, “NOT behind them!”
The security crew inspected us for contraband water bottles, energy bars, and snacks, re-grouped us, contained us, and menaced us: “NO running once in the concert hall. ANYONE caught running will be put at the back of the line.” They softened and reminded us to be kind and to note that everyone was a different height, and that sometimes viewing was a challenge for shorter people.
At this point I felt almost sorry for the supermodel-worthy mom and her son, because there were many murmurs of, “Not behind THEM!” Then the doors opened, and everyone very calmly surged forward into the concert space.
The opening singer sang; people shifted in their micro-personal spaces. I found an area near an exit and leaned on a metal rail while my daughter and her friend made their way up to the front of the mosh pit. I kept the girls in my sight line and took in the concert. Most people were holding their phones up to record the show.
The headliner came on. She sang, her voice true and vibrant. I was happy to watch my daughter and her friend react, dance, and become a bit just more themselves. I was happy to watch the crowd. I caught sight of the tall lady and her son about a quarter of the way back from the stage, illuminated above the other concert-goers they swayed and jumped to the music, a triangle of empty space behind them.
Then an unusual movement in the front area of the mosh pit caught my eye: a tall woman was making her way toward me. She exhaled as she got to me.
“I just wanted to give some of those shorter people a chance to see better…”
Some hair from the ponytail of the girl in front of me swiped my forehead, and I recoiled lightly into the metal barrier at my back. I turned to the woman. “You know, that is the most generous thing I have seen all day.”
Height-wise I just clear the 5’ mark. I nodded as I assessed the first 100 people. Average height 5’8”, a surprisingly average group, except for this one woman and her son. These two pushed the possible average to 5’10”. She was easily 6’4” and her son was maybe 6’2”. I heard a pleasant 5’8” guy behind me say to his date, “NOT behind them!”
The security crew inspected us for contraband water bottles, energy bars, and snacks, re-grouped us, contained us, and menaced us: “NO running once in the concert hall. ANYONE caught running will be put at the back of the line.” They softened and reminded us to be kind and to note that everyone was a different height, and that sometimes viewing was a challenge for shorter people.
At this point I felt almost sorry for the supermodel-worthy mom and her son, because there were many murmurs of, “Not behind THEM!” Then the doors opened, and everyone very calmly surged forward into the concert space.
The opening singer sang; people shifted in their micro-personal spaces. I found an area near an exit and leaned on a metal rail while my daughter and her friend made their way up to the front of the mosh pit. I kept the girls in my sight line and took in the concert. Most people were holding their phones up to record the show.
The headliner came on. She sang, her voice true and vibrant. I was happy to watch my daughter and her friend react, dance, and become a bit just more themselves. I was happy to watch the crowd. I caught sight of the tall lady and her son about a quarter of the way back from the stage, illuminated above the other concert-goers they swayed and jumped to the music, a triangle of empty space behind them.
Then an unusual movement in the front area of the mosh pit caught my eye: a tall woman was making her way toward me. She exhaled as she got to me.
“I just wanted to give some of those shorter people a chance to see better…”
Some hair from the ponytail of the girl in front of me swiped my forehead, and I recoiled lightly into the metal barrier at my back. I turned to the woman. “You know, that is the most generous thing I have seen all day.”
 What I see 90% of the time at a concert. |  The ponytail in the face is a frequent view. |
Ah! And, sometimes I see the singer, Ms. Tori Kelly!
RSS Feed