And no, horrification is not a real word. I made it up. Especially for this tale telling. For those who know me, you know I'm a fairly "straight" person shall we say. That's not to say that I've never done anything wrong or "bad", but the extent of my vices is an Appletini every once in a while.
My husband is a HUGE music lover in general and has been a Grateful Dead (now technically called just "The Dead" since Jerry Garcia passed away) fan for a long time. He likes to share his love of music with me and I really appreciate that, although his and my music tastes are not even on the same planet. I like Celtic Woman, Bryan Adams, and Norah Jones. He likes the Allman Brothers, the Dead, and CSNY. So, in an attempt to share this love of music, he's taken me to a few concerts for these bands. Allman Brothers was first about 10ish years ago. It wasn't that bad. I actually liked it. Then, about 5ish year ago, it was CSNY. Again, not bad. A smidge of illegal activities, but it mostly stayed in the background.
Last Saturday night was the Dead Concert. OH.MY.GOD. Let's just say that it was four straight hours of "horrification." From the smokestack that surrounded us to the tie-dye clad whirling dervishes to the woman with the dreadlock ponytails holding an infant, most likely giving it whiplash while dancing. I'm pretty sure my mouth was on the floor the ENTIRE time. I kept thinking I'd go hide in the bathroom, but was afraid that I'd get caught up in the swaying in the aisles or encounter even more hardcore illegal activities in there. Wow. So out of my element it wasn't even funny.
The things you do for love!
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