Memories Are Films About Ghosts

“Mom, you know you are almost 30 years old, right?!” my daughter says.
Her tone suggests I am on my way out the door to go dancing in an age-inappropriate outfit.
“My 30th birthday is more than 2 years away, thank you.” I snip at her. “Go call your dad and bug him about being 30, that will make his day.”
As I ponder the whole 30 thing, I am amazed that I do feel some apprehension. Wow. 30. That is fairly, maybe borderline, old…er. There was a time in my life where I wanted nothing more than to be 30. At 30, I would always be on time for everything. What a fabulous goal in life- to be punctual. I think back to the girl I was then and, to quote my new best friend, Veronica Mars, “I am no longer that girl.” True, I am not that girl, but I miss her sometimes and I enjoy reminiscing about her. And as I am already late for a date with the dishwasher, I will continue.
Since I am getting older, I thought I might share some of my favorite memories- at least the ones that I can remember. This way, if I should progress any further in my memory suppression, I will at least have these notes as a refresher.
A Counting Crows concert was the first time I felt a pang of “old.” It has occurred to me that I may have an unhealthy obsession with the Counting Crows. My oldest (in terms of length of friendship- not years old) friend, KT and I had a hilarious laugh as we told someone about the concert we went to 3 years ago. This should have been the first sign that old age was creeping in covertly. We decided to go to Charlotte to hear the Counting Crows who were touring with John Mayer that summer. Agreeing that we were too tired for dancing in the seated sections, much less the center pit, we opted for casual grass seats. When we arrived, we were puzzled by all the “I love John” shirts worn by children much too young to be at a concert. As the lights dimmed around the Verizon Wireless Pavilion, I was delighted to see Adam Duritz and the Counting Crows appear on stage. “Hey, that’s weird; I thought John Mayer would be up first and then the big show. Maybe John isn’t playing tonight.” This is an actual conversation we had. It occurred to us after A Long December and before Anna Begins that John Mayer was headlining this concert. We were there to see the opening band. Wow. How could all these kids like John Mayer? Were they crazy? I mean, John Mayer over Adam? Does he even write his own lyrics? Okay. I know he does write some of his own stuff. But when your entire life is backlit with a soundtrack of the Counting Crows, the opening band gig was hard to stomach. That was probably the first time I felt exceptionally old. Just to be clear, I have enjoyed the Counting Crows in my youth as well. This is not some new vintage obsession. I will admit, that as a teenager, I was desperate to go to a concert featuring the Counting Crows and the Wallflowers. “Yes, you can go to Charlotte but you have to buy your own ticket and you have to take your father,” my mom said. Em and I decided it was definitely worth it. So we went. I can still see my dad lean over and say, “Are the people behind us smoking?” I looked at him and said, “Dad, it is an outdoor pavilion, there is not a No Smoking Section and they are not smoking cigarettes, try not to hold your breath for too long.” Should the Counting Crows ever tour through Charlotte again I may have to take my dad just for old time sake. I can probably bribe him into it by telling him that since they are the opening band these days we can leave early and beat all the traffic out of the Pavilion. Like KT and I did when we left John Mayer singing his heart out and hit the road.