Dad Picks the 1st Concert

Before Oscar was born, back when he was just a belly bump, a dream came true for the husband.

Phish got back together.

For Nate, this was the best announcement he had heard since the ultrasound tech said “See the penis? And there, see the scrotum?” The minute the announcement was made Nate started planning our son’s first concert. Which venue we would all go to? Do they have Phish baby onesies? Which tour date should we attend? etc, etc.

It’s not that I don’t like Phish, it’s just that I don’t love them. I mean, I don’t mind going to a concert, the people watching alone makes it worthwhile. It’s just that Phish really isn’t my thing. As my sister puts it, “It’s not like I’d listen to a 30 minute version of Meatstick.” Well, my husband would, and does. Thirty minute jam sessions bore me. They bore me in a car, they bore me doing dishes, they bore me jamming out full blast in my living room.

I have to be honest. I had secretly wished that Oscar’s first concert would be a band that I wholeheartedly loved. When I was in my 2nd trimester, and I kept waiting for the “fluttering” that is a baby kick, I finally felt the first one on my way to work. I was in my car, listening to Elvis Costello’s “Allison” louder than necessary and singing at the top of my lungs. “Oh my god,” I thought, “My baby has such good taste!” I couldn’t believe that he kicked to Elvis Costello. What a great musical future I saw for the two of us. So I do feel some disappointment, nee jealousy. Part of me wanted that 1st concert, and Nate got it instead.

Hippie Town in Parking Lot

I will say that the actual concert turned out to be a blast. I’ve been to my fair share of hippie shows.  Back in the day, I used to go to quite a lot, unbathed, broke, and stoned. Hippie shows are a culture unto themselves. It’s almost like a traveling circus, or maybe a Renaissance Faire is more accurate. People don’t just go to one Phish show. They go to the whole tour. Following them across the country, selling grilled cheeses and veggie burritos as they go. They arrive at the venue way early and set up the tent, the hookah and the table of homemade jewelry for sale or trade.

It's our party

Our own setup was pretty badass, if I do say so myself. The best part was that we’re not 19 anymore and now when we tailgate, we come with more than just beer. We had camping chairs and pillows, umbrellas for shade. We had one cooler filled with snacks and various beverages. The other cooler was full of Bell’s beer which I planned on selling, but ending up chickening out, and we all just drank them instead.

Shh Hippies! The baby is sleeping!

In the middle of everything, we made a little nest for Oscar to nap and wonder of wonder, miracle of miracle, he did! I sometimes wish that I could just pop my thumb in my mouth and then have the ability to sleep wherever and whenever. I don’t know about you guys, but I really love to sleep.

G'day, mate!

Anyways, Oscar was a hit with all the hippies and made friends wherever we went. Whenwe met people waiting in line for the bathrooms and we saw them later, they would shout, “Hey! It’s Oscar!” and more than one person asked to take his picture. It was like hanging out with the popular kid in high school. You might not be the actual cool kid, but your hanging out with him, therefore cool by association. Plus, unlike high school, I made this kid so added cool kid bonus points.

By the way, best part, the show was on Father’s Day. Nate was so proud. He carried him around everywhere in the Baby Bjorn showing him off.

They sit at the popular table at lunch.

Once inside, we came prepared with baby earmuff hearing protection and luckily he didn’t mind them at all. They are super lightweight despite how they look. If anyone wants to know, they are Peltor earmuffs for kids. Conveniently in blue and pink so you can save their ears and gender role at the same time (I mean, where’s the gender neutral green?).

Ready for the first set!

I shouldn’t bitch. They worked really well. He even fell asleep at bedtime. The dull roar of tens of thousands of hippies his muffled lullaby.

Bedtime Bjorn