Trent and I went to a Killers concert Tuesday night. I'm not going to attempt a review of the show, because I can't. The difference between a good show and a mediocre one--and possibly even a bad one--is really not a distinction I've ever been able to make. I enjoyed it very much. I will say this: I was very surprised that they didn't mention the inauguration, especially since they were playing Chicago. And I thought the stage graphics were overly literal--the beating hearts during Human and the globe during The World That We Live In bordered on the ridiculous. One funny moment during Human: Brandon Flowers commented,"Is it denser or dancer? I don't know." And when I was in the bathroom for the start of the show I heard some girls yelling to each other over the stall partitions, "Oh no! Its the only song we know!"
But really what I wanted to write about is how going to shows like this can make me feel so old. I look for gray hair in the crowd to make me feel better, but when it belongs to parents escorting their preteens it's just not the same. Whenever I feel that way, though, I always immediately reflect that I would not for the world trade the self-assurance I have today for youth. If I could keep my hard-won confidence and still go back to being 19, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I don't think it works that way. It's astonishing how much more I enjoy my life now that I feel at peace with myself--despite the admittedly sad fact that the older I get, the less I seem to be able to change who I am and what I am doing with my life.
I find the process of growing up fascinating. I'm 30 years old and I still feel like I am growing up. The obvious changes of adolescence and then becoming independent were replaced by the learning processes of my first post-college job, then law school and law firm life, and now marriage and parenthood. I don't think I'll be done growing up until I switch to growing old. Which may not be far away.