Crying Babies

Many months ago, my 12-year-old daughter begged relentlessly for tickets to see her favorite singer, Austin Mahone, in Denver.  Her father and I agreed to buy her tickets as an advanced birthday gift, but bypassed the VIP option due to her less-than-stellar grade in Algebra.

When the concert recently came to town, I grumbled a bit at having to attend a teenybopper concert, but eventually decided that in order for her to have fun, I needed to play along and embrace the experience as new, unchartered territory. I texted Ali on the way home from work to let her know that I was on the way, gave her our departure time and asked what in the world we were going to wear. She informed me that jeans and t-shirt were acceptable, although she scoffed at my wedge sandals, which I needed to compensate for the fact that my pants are always too long for my midget legs.

Dressed up and ready to go, we headed to Denver and found Teenybopper Central. The line for the concert wrapped around the building and I begged her to let me stop in a nearby brewery so I could prepare for the event and let the line die down a bit. No luck.

We had to get in line NOW. I watched a parade of little girls go by in various concert attire, some very scantily clad, others with t-shirts bearing uncomfortably large face shots of some boys that I had never seen in my life, but ones to which these little girls lives revolved. Ali, having a moment of sensibility, remarked that it probably creeped out celebrities to see people wearing their face and she vowed to never own such a shirt of anyone, including Austin Mahone. She then informs me that since we bought these tickets so long ago, Austin Mahone is no longer her favorite because he was spotted with Justin Bieber. Luckily, her new favorite is Shawn Mendes, who is also in the performing line up for the evening. Whew.  She then begins to scowl at other girls wearing not only Shawn Mendes shirts, but brandishing Shawn Mendes VIP passes for after the show. I reminded her that she might have had a VIP pass as well, had she only fared better in Algebra. I received a scowl in return, but I think she realized the slight on this occasion was entirely of her own doing. Better luck next semester.

Once inside, I realize we had seats on the main floor, which made it easier to get to the restrooms, concessions and concert sales booth. Yay for restrooms and beer. Boo for easy access to $30 concert t-shirts.

We settle into the seats and Ali starts to make fun of all the "crazy" girls meandering around, twittering to themselves with excitement of seeing their crush onstage. I am almost proud of how sensible my baby seems to be taking things until....the large curtain with SHAWN MENDES written on it drops from the stage. Ali immediately begins to cry. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell just happened to her when a young man walks out from behind the curtain, holding a guitar and a stool. He sits down and plays. This kid is GOOD. Ali is still crying. In the interest of fun and trying to make Ali laugh, whenever the crowd of teenybopper starts screaming, I too, do my best paralyzed-with-excitement scream, although I have absolutely NO idea who the heck I'm screaming about. All in good fun. Ali manages to laugh a little through her happy tears. My job is already done and we've only seen the first of four acts.

Once Shawn is finished, I am in awe that my child is covered in happy tears, so while I head out to find myself a $9 craft beer, I decide to buy her a t-shirt of Shawn Mendes, along with a shirt of the next group -- Fifth Harmony. I'd heard one of their songs on the Disney channel through satellite radio on the way to the concert, so it seemed like a safe enough bet. Ali is thrilled, immediately puts on the Shawn Mendes shirt and proclaims that she might not take it off for at least the next month.

Fifth Harmony is already on stage at this time -- a group of five girls singing your typical teenybopper songs. I wasn't overly impressed with their talent, but I did appreciate that they appeared like real girls -- not the emaciated frames that consistently convince my daughter that she is somehow overweight or undervalued. I'm fairly certain those girls eat a normal teenage diet of pizza and ice cream, although I wish their "normal" frames had a bit more clothing covering their parts. I had a brief discussion with Ali where I pointed out that these girls seemed to be getting by on premature sex appeal rather than simple talent. She agreed, but asked me nicely to please shut up so she could just enjoy the show. Fair enough. I went back to sipping my beer.

Next up was a band called The Vamps -- which I had also only recently heard on the Disney station. A British band consisting of four young boys ranging from 18-20 years old, these kids hit the stage like little balls of fire. The lead singer, whom I had dubbed Nigel due to his strong British accent (I think his real name is Brad?), was about the cutest thing you've ever seen and I told Ali a million times like a grandma that I just wanted to pinch his little cheeks so bad. (Yes, the ones on his face -- not elsewhere.) I really enjoyed their set and spent some time boucing around as much as my wedge sandals would allow and screamed along with the rest of the tweenagers in the crowd. My favorite part was when Nigel decided he was going to teach the crowd a "new" song. He says he's going to give us the lyrics and we can try to follow along.

He begins, "Ceceeeeeeee-lia, you're breaking my heart...you're shakin' my confidence daaaaaaily...." OMG. He's trying to teach me Cecilia by Simon and Garfunkel?? I thought, "You cute little man - I was singing that song before you were ever a thought in your mother's mind!" No matter - he did a great job and I enjoyed the brief throw back to my own youth. This called for another trip to the concert stand and purchase of a Vamps t-shirt for Ali and then, in an attempt to be proactive, I went ahead and bought an Austin Mahone shirt just for good measure. The only one WITHOUT his face though, as directed earlier.

Austin Mahone hit the stage a short while later and proved to be the singing and dancing phenom I was promised. An incredibly cute kid, I thought he did a great job of engaging the crowd and I got in a bit more screming with the girls until I felt my voice begin to strain. I was telling Ali that although I like Austin Mahone, I really preferred the Shawn Mendes performance because I have more respect for simple, pure talent -- rather than a flurry of backup dancers, light shows and gimmicks. Almost on cue, the Austin Mahone set died down, he sent away the dancers and reappeared on stage with a stool and guitar -- only accompanied by an adorable older man on a piano named Abe. Ali got very excited and said this is why she, too, liked Austin Mahone - for his simple YouTube performances and not the wild stage show. She was correct. He was very good with just his guitar and won me over by remarking that he was orginally from Texas, loved country music and wanted to sing us one of his favorites. That favorite turned out to be "Check Yes or No" by George Strait and it was then that I might have been one of the few patrons still screaming in her seat. The teenyboppers didn't recognize the song (except for Ali who has been subject to much of my George Strait obsession over the years). I happily sang along, dancing around my chair, having an incredible end to a very sweet, happy evening with my baby girl.

We were exhausted on the way home and didn't get back to the house until after midnight. I still had to get to work early the next day, so I washed up and went straight to bed -- as did Ali. She reaffirmed her desire to wear her concert shirt for as long as I will allow -- possibly through the first school semester -- and I went to bed with the sweet, incredible picture of my child burned into my mind -- those tears of joy that she shared when the first performer hit the stage. These are the memories I will keep forever.