My First Concert

Yes, I just teased people whose first concert was Bryan Adams, but the truth is, my own first concert was way more embarrassing on several levels.

In 7th grade, I received a birthday present from my dad: a ticket to the Lilith Fair! And a second ticket, too! Not for a friend, but for my dad, who would be going with me!

It wasn't an altogether bad gift. At that young age, my musical tastes skewed more Lilith Fair than Lollapalooza. At the same time, my dad's two favorite musical artists were Sarah McLachlan and Natalie Merchant. And who do you suppose was headlining the festival? So, like, Happy Birthday to you, too, Dad.

Like any new teenager, I was embarrassed to spend any time in public with my dad, never mind at this concert. More than anything, I worried about the lesbian factor. Everyone at school talked about how the Lilith Fair was for lesbians (because who else supports female musicians?) and I was afraid to be caught in that scene with my dad.

As it turned out, most of the concert-goers were teenage girls accompanied by their friends and boyfriends. Oddly, none of them had come with their fathers. More importantly, it was hardly the lesbian-fest my friends purported it to be, and ended up being way less awkward than I expected it to be.

Well, less awkward until the butch-est lesbian couple you've ever seen sat in the seats in front of us. From our position, there was no ignoring them because we had to look around their buzz-cut heads just to see the stage. And if their aesthetic wasn't enough to identify them as gay, they erased all doubt when they made out. A lot.

I cannot even describe my discomfort. 7th grade Kevin did not want to have to witness sapphic affections with his dad. They were nice ladies, even, as they turned around an offered to lend me their binoculars so I could get a better look at Bonnie Raitt. But even their kindness upset me as that meant I had to acknowledge their presence rather than having some plausible deniability that I was so entranced by "Something to Talk About" that I was oblivious to the lesbians sucking face in front of us.

Look, I've matured a lot since those youthful prejudices to the point where I've been labelled an "honorary lesbian", but that doesn't change how embarrassed I was at the time. The headline that day could have easily read "7th Grader Dies of Mortification at the Lilith Fair". And while the coroner removed my body from the arena, Sarah McLachlan would have led the crowd in a rendition of "I Will Remember You".