a breakfast serial

One bite-sized story every morning to uplift, motivate, or provoke thought.

A Moment Like This

< by Brennan >

The Virginia Beach Amphitheater, home to some of my favorite concert memories. Dave Matthews — many times — 311, New Found Glory. A giant lawn, the warm Virginia evening air, and thousands of fans enjoying their favorite music. Nothing quite like it.

Now, your crowd obviously varies from group to group, each one sort of unique to the band you are seeing. And, typically, you will fit in with whatever show you are going to; it’s surprising how many other people like the same thing you do.

Until you go to a Kelly Clarkson concert. Because, when it was suggested, it was just novel enough and outlandish enough to merit a rowdy “Hell yes” from those involved. Because, when you are on summer vacation from college, and she keeps releasing songs that, well, get at you somehow, you think it is just exciting enough to get revved up for.

You play her greatest hits on the way, tricking yourself along the way that this concert is going to be a blast — that you can’t wait to be around other Kelly fans, jamming out to Since U Been Gone and dancing your heart out.

And then you are three college-aged people standing in a sea of pre-teen girls and their parents, scaring everyone around you with your age, height, general demeanor, and facial hair. To everyone around you, there is no viable explanation as to why this group of people is at this concert.

And then she cranks out Miss Independent, and you remember that “Hell yes” that brought you here. At this point, the ticket is paid for, and this song does rock. And as you bounce around among the pre-teens, trampling on blankets sometimes, nothing else matters but a moment like this.

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