Case of the Nutty Blond

Please tell me what I am doing posting on my blog when I really should be in bed. It is getting to be a busy season as we are trying to get the ice arena ready to open, and my time card said I worked 30 hours a week. That alone isn’t bad, but school started Wednesday, and Tuesday night I went to my first ever rock concert.

If I were a wise fuddy-dud, I probably would have stayed home since school started the next day, but seriously, you are only young once, and one day I will catch up on that sleep I missed. It proved worth it, though. We went to see Tool at the E Center in Salt Lake City, Utah. Sammy, the friend who got my sister and me the tickets, guaranteed us that it would be the experience of a life time, even if we didn’t get hooked on rock concerts forever.

Actually, Tool was probably the best first concert for me to go to because their fans are so mellow, for the most part. The Tool-fan creed is based off of one of their songs (sorry I don’t know which one) and is “Think for yourself; question authority.” It seems every Tool fan holds these principles dear to his or her heart and is seen in two points: the range of diversity in fans and the fact that there was relatively little alcohol and drugs at the concert. There were no dull moments because even when you were waiting, you could people watch. There were people there of all shapes and styles, and they didn’t care what you looked like as long as that was who you were. You had better not show up to a Tool concert dressed as a rocker-punk unless you really are one. No posers. “Think for yourself.” And obviously you can’t think for yourself when you are drunk or high. As one friend of Sammy’s pointed out: “Tool is a dish best served sober.” Personally, Tool is a trip that needs no extra help. The screens in the background show images from your dreams, or nightmares, and the music varies so much, from killer drums to the screams of pain or excitement of the guitars. I liked how Tool is not just there to make noise; it really is about the music. Maynard, the lead singer, even reprimanded the moshers up front who were throwing chairs during the first song, saying “There’s no sense in getting hurt over rock music.”

I loved how the tempos and rhythms of the songs varied, even within the song itself. In order to get through anything that is longer than an hour, you have to give your mind and body a breather. With breathers available not only in between songs but also in the songs themselves, carried through by guitars, drums, and pounding base, I think you could jam at a Tool concert for four hours or longer. I can see how one could get addicted to rock concerts; even without the drugs, the adrenaline itself is a high.

As for me, I could definitely get hooked on rock concerts. It would be nice if the next concert I went to was a band I knew and liked, but that’s a minor detail. The hardest part for me is knowingly giving oneself over to the mob mentality. As long as it is a band that is worthy, I do not think I’d mind going to another rock concert at all.