Go Blue or Go Home: The blue hairspray I searched the city for the day before, according to the doll, “Is just plain gross”. So instead of having a blue coloring covering my dolls beautiful red locks, I found blue colored hairspray covering the bathroom sink, on the boy’s toothbrush, splashed on her shampoo bottle, down the side of her neck and on both sides of the bathtub; not to mention sprinkled all along my bathroom floor. Her friend Stephanie, while deciding against the hairspray coloring undeterred, grabbed a blue magic marker and “colored” blue streaks into her hair.
We were seated in the upper level off to the left of the stage. In all honesty, they weren’t bad seats for viewing. For hearing, however, they were not the best since none of the many speakers used were pointed in our direction. Thus, the adults, (D and Me) began to realize, hearing or understanding what the bands was saying/singing was highly overrated. The girls didn’t seem to notice, as they sang along to the music. I, on the other hand, was reminded of my progressive rock days when lyrics didn’t make sense or didn’t really matter. In addition, not being able to decipher their song lyrics also helped hide the many expletives the lead singers employed, keeping the doll’s embarrassment level (as she sang along) down to a minimum.
During the second band’s act, I was mesmerized by a new sport–at least to me–called crowd surfing. Yes, kids pulled out their SmartPhones turned on their camera’s and then recorded themselves, being carried along atop the crowd (and sometimes thrown further by the crowd) to the front of the stage, where a bouncer would grab and pull them to safety and then release them back into the crowd to start all over again. Looking over at D, I remarked, “See that blonde girl? She has to be the grand champion of crowd surfing. I think this may be her tenth time through the crowd”. D looked back at me and replied, “I’m shocked to have only seen one person dropped this entire time. I honestly thought there would have been more…”
Of the four bands that performed, D and I came to the same conclusion, the final band, All Time Low was our favorite–and the crowds too, judging by the amount of undergarments thrown up on stage for their amusement. “You know bras are really expensive…” D began, “I guess you can tell I’m a mom, I don’t want to waste money on a bra just to throw at those boys”. “Yeah, me neither,” I concurred, laughing at how different we saw the world from the girls in front of the stage. We also agreed standing behind our girls while they danced, sang, tried to record different songs and generally enjoyed the show, was the best part of the event for us.
All in all, I really can’t complain about the loud music and or my doll’s want to see her favorite bands. “While I couldn’t understand a thing they were singing, I did like the overall message the bands tried to convey in between songs–don’t be ashamed of who you are. Being a freak is okay. Be you!” I said to the doll and then quickly added, “Plus they all had nice short hair…” “Seriously mom…” She quickly responded. “Well doll, I have to sound like a mom every now and again, don’t I?”