Music in a Target Parking Lot

Who were these bands? At first, I had no idea. But now I do, at least a little. Which makes my world bigger and brighter.

I went to a Shinyribs concert with a friend this week. She did not bully me into it, although she later confessed that she was afraid that she might have. It was a band that I had never heard of playing a type of music that I wasn’t familiar with. Wikipedia labels their sound as “Southern soul, swamp-funk.” I did not know much about “swamp-funk.” I drove about 100 miles to her house, because she is a friend who does not live close by, and then we drove about another hour to the venue.

The concert was outside in a cordoned off area at the back of a brewery which was at the back of a Target parking lot. Somehow, they created a concert venue there. Somebody fenced off an area, created a “grassy” (I think it was Astroturf) hill where concert goers could sit in low-backed chairs, brought in a few picnic tables facing a stage, and sectioned off an area in the middle near the stage where folks could dance. There was a bar at the back and food was included with your concert ticket if you purchased a package. So along with a concert, you could enjoy tri-tip with German potato salad and tasty baked beans or barbequed ribs with French fries.

I have been to a few concerts in my life, but none in recent years.

(It is possible that the last concert I attended was by Barry Manilow in Ohio when my daughter, who recently graduated from college, was in first grade. Barry Manilow is not swamp-funk).

I certainly had never been to a concert like that. The band: Shinyribs. The band members: mostly not young. Mostly, I think, possibly older than even me? Which was also true of many of the concert goers.

None of that mattered, though.

How could it matter when the 50-something lead singer,  in a bright green shirt and orange hat, careened around the stage with crazy good dance moves and nonstop energy, even doing the splits on stage?

You wouldn’t even have known that it was an older crowd, if you closed your eyes a little, enough so that you didn’t notice all the grey hair, and only saw the dancing. This crowd was alive. The dance floor was packed. There was nothing but joy there.

I felt the joy, too. Which was what my friend wanted for me, I think. Because the last time I saw her (since you don’t always see friends who live that far away as often as you would like), I was going through a bit of a rough patch. You know about those, I bet.

At one point, during my rough patch, she asked me what I was doing for fun.

For fun?

I don’t even remember exactly what I said. Probably something like “reading” or “working in the yard” or “going for walks.”

She wasn’t convinced.

So she invited me to the concert, bought my ticket (including the barbeque part), and told me that of course I would spend the night, since it would be too late to drive home afterwards.

And you know?

She was right.

It was fun.

It was the kind of fun that I hadn’t had in a long time. And even though I was no longer in that initial rough patch, the period of sadness which led her to invite me to the concert in the first place, the evening was one I will remember. There was the music, but also the time I got to spend with my friend’s family, all people she loved that came along with us to the concert for the joy of it. They welcomed me, too. Made me feel like I was part of their group, part of them.

Family is a funny thing. Sometimes it shows up when you are not expecting it, and you can stand on the sides and watch, or jump in and let it embrace you. The dancing, bobbing, singing people at the concert came together for one magical evening, becoming a sort of family for each other. I got to be part of that family, and part of my friend’s family, too.  I think there will be more concerts in my future with my friend and her family. Because what am I doing for fun after all?  Honestly, what are any of us doing for fun these days?

I am fairly sure that none of us are having too much of it.

(Maybe that’s something we should try to change.)