What are the chances that the first song I heard performed by a full band on a big stage with big ol' amplifiers after a year and half would be captured by a friend of said band and posted to said band's YouTube page, and feature me at the moment that my mind is being once again blown by the incredibly emotional realization that music could still make my body and soul sing in ways I had truly forgotten?
Pretty good! See?
I have made efforts multiple times to go to shows over the past few weeks and stayed at home at the last moment every single time. So Sunday I decided that maybe if I posted something publicly about trying to attend a show, it might help hold me accountable and get me out the door for once.
And it worked! Well, not so much the accountable thing and more the lovely responses from friends helped me realize leaving the house was worth it.
So I went to Wicker Park Fest to see Smoking Popes, and as I walked in they launched into "Let's Hear It For Love." I staked out a spot outside the venue I booked 20 years ago—close enough to the stage to see the band but far enough away I wouldn't be blocking anyone's view. I think I welled up near the end of the song, but after that first wave passed and I composed myself then ... the tears really started flowing.
Literally crying right now standing watching Smoking Popes because my physical frame forgot what the vibrations of live drums and amps and pure volume felt like.
— Tankboy (@tankboy) July 26, 2021
Bliss.
I have a lot more I could say about the experience and it's lasting and positive mental effects, but for now let me simply share that it will take a while to ramp back up to whatever "normal" socializing looks like, but these first steps feel wonderful.