I went to the Justin Bieber concert Tuesday night in Saskatoon. Obviously, it was awesome. Time of my freakin' life.
But it was a bit of a strange experience. For one, I drove home after the concert drinking a large Double Double from Tim's and listening to CBC on the radio. I have never drunk coffee before. And I honestly don't listen to CBC a whole lot. So basically, while driving home at midnight, I turned into the 30-year-old version of myself. It was pretty cool.
But then, while at the Justin Bieber concert, I was just as excited as the 12-year-old girls surrounding me in the nosebleed section. My scream was just as loud and, by the end, just as high-pitched. It was like I was a pre-teen again. It was just as cool as being the 30-year-old version of me.
The confusing age mash-up that took place over those five hours (three for the concert, two to drive home) was almost as neat as the concert. But, like all events that involve other people, the night wasn't perfect.
When I landed in Chamberlain with the intent of grabbing a sub, I entered a gas station swarming with J.B. fans on their way to the concert. But instead of teens making the trip, it was filled with mothers and their toddlers. At first, I thought it was cool to see a four-year-old decked out in purple and excitedly talking about the concert. But then I thought back to being four years old and the fact that I remember almost nothing from that time of my life.
What the heck is the point in taking your kindergartener to a concert? They aren't going to remember it. Her J.B. T-shirt is only going to fit for another five months before she grows, as children are notorious for doing. And the cheesy smartphone photo you took will be out of date and low quality by the time she is old enough to appreciate it.
If you're going to the concert for yourself, that's cool. But fess up. You may be taking your daughter, but you really just wanted to see that 18-year-old hottie dancing his life away on stage. Nothing wrong with that, of course.
