I've Accepted It...Sigh

I'm OLD. Ancient crone old. Dried up prune hag old.

I used to be the girl who rocked out. I loved concerts. Loved them so much that my hearing is now compromised. I'd sing, I'd dance, I'd jump, and I'd scream. Lord, did I scream. If you could talk the day after a concert, you just weren't doing it right.

My family loves to go to a concert tour every year called Winter Jam. A roster of 5 or 6 Christian artists comes to the local NBA arena, and it's always a fun time. Lately, the artists have been a little more hard-core rocknrolla, and I found out something.

I'd rather be home having a nap.

One of the bands, Hawk Nelson, had a light show. The lights started flashing- not slow enough to be ignored, not fast enough to be a strobe. My vision was blurring slightly, and I got dizzy. I felt like one of those Japanese kids that watch the fast cartoons and have seizures.

The volume was as loud as it always has been, I guess, but it affected me more than it used to. The bass THRUM THRUM THROB practically reset my heart rate. I felt sorry for the people who had pacemakers; they were probably twitching for hours afterward.

And of course, we sat right in front of an entire row of teenage girls. Why do girls scream? I did it. If you're a girl, chances are you did it too. I don't remember hitting decibels unknown to man, however. During intermission, I jokingly told them they had really good lungs. One girl smiled and said, "Oh, did you hear us?"

I did at first, but not by the last act. I had given up hearing by then to concentrate on voluntary brain functions without pain.

My husband had deserted us much earlier, since he's smarter than I am. When I joined him outside on the concourse, wonder of wonders! I can actually hear the music! I can understand the artists when they speak! In the arena, I basically got "GARGLEBLARKFOOSTUSDOO OKLAHOMA CITY!"

If there had just been a video feed somewhere, it would have been perfect. That, and a small drink that didn't cost six dollars.