I’ve begun to think that my best posts are those in which I look back on my past and paint sepia-toned images of times gone by. This probably works best because I’ve had time to digest what actually happened and turn it into a sort-of narrative.
In this vain I thought I’d describe an event I attended in the relatively distant past.
Life was just about to turn. I’d already met Jeffrey. And C had already met D. But we were still young. And the deep connections of “marriage” had not yet set. There was life outside those walls.
And it was summer.
We took the train, snapshots taken along the way. My hair was too short. And my green “Academy Is” t-shirt was too small. And so was I. At 125lbs I was somewhere less than a lightweight. I wasn’t ready to be “me”. Best to shrink away I guess. To slide into invisibility.
But it was warm. July 4th.
Arrived at Spring Garden and began to walk. I was literally shaking with apprehension. C was low-key as usual. Around us was the run-down abandoned sites of what would become Waterfront Square. Where yuppies would eventually descend. But not yet.
There was a line. I was surprised. But it began to move and C and I crowded in. We wandered for a short while as the opening bands played. There were many.
The sun was still high, but eventually it descended behind the towers of Philadelphia. The stage was framed in golden light. Another few snapshots.
And then “The Hush Sound” began to play. I wasn’t ready for them. I’d never heard of them, frankly. But what a feeling. Hearing a “sound” for the first time; being lifted high away from the ground with a joyful noise. I’m not sure that C was as excited, but I was surely enraptured by the jangly-rock blaring away in my ear.
Soon the golden frame began to sink away to blue and purple. The anticipation was growing.
I was already on clouds.
But I wasn’t ready for this. A literal carnival cascaded across the stage. And shortly Brendan Urie appeared. I figured that “Panic!” would be poppy and fun. Little did I know. The energy and sound coming from the stage was intoxicating. Young men even enjoyed some light “moshing”. I was transported by it all. Only momentarily interrupted by the fireworks.
I was soon consumed and sweaty. My voice cracking from screaming. And in the end, as Brendan sang a cover of “Tonight, Tonight” I knew I could not rise any higher. There was no where else on planet earth so mesmerizing.
The sky was now black and I was spent. C was somewhat perplexed by my enthusiasm but he accepted things.
That night was a door. Things would never be the same. My youth began to fade away. Not quickly. Not precipitously. But slowly. Carefully. Inevitably.
My life before was an emo dream. The highest highs and lowest lows. There’s not too much I miss about that.
But I have not reached those heights since.
