![]() ![]() Last night was an emotional and religious experience for me because of the music but it wasn’t about the music. That being said, last night was not about the music for me. He’s a stellar guitarist and his band is just as stellar. It was a beautiful moment that Cory’s funky and fun music only magnified.Ĭrap! I just realized I am paragraphs into this and haven’t even said a word about Cory’s music. People shifted under the tent so the people who had been tailgating in the parking lot could fit under the safety of the tent while still keeping distance from strangers. The rain didn’t stop anything, if anything it just added a whole new element of love and community to the night. I was finally able to compose myself and get back to my seat just before the rain started to drench the parking lot. It had been 135 days of not feeling like myself and here I was, finally getting the chance to feel like myself. I stalked the back of the parking lot by myself as the rain started to come down and couldn’t help but just have a major freaking breakdown. So here I was watching some of the few people who really stuck with it and it gave me so much hope, so much pride and, of course, that’s when the tears became almost too much to hold back.ĭramatic? Absolutely but I excused myself to get up and walk around the parking lot before I completely lost it in front of everyone around me. Although it was a music school, the amount of people who gave up on music altogether after school breaks my heart. So not only was I grappling with the emotion that came with my first show in months, I was trying to level out the feeling of optimism that seeing Cory and some other kids I went to college with still doing this music thing. He also happens to be a success story from the college I went to (McNally Smith College of Music). I knew I missed live music but I don’t think I understood the magnitude of how much I missed it until the first note was played.Ĭory Wong is an extraordinary guitarist. Although it didn’t feel like my typically kind of concert due to the whole sitting thing and not being constantly bumped by strangers as they made their way to the bar or bathrooms, the music and feeling the thump of the bass in my chest was what I needed. My attention instantly went from the conversations around me and the drink sitting in front of me to the stage. Just past five, Cory Wong and The Hornheads took the stage and jumped into a set that instantly had me feeling all of the feels. Sure, there was a storm looming that was sure to nail us at some point but that didn’t seem to be a thought in anyone’s mind. People of all ages, all colors, all mentalities, all just sitting around waiting for the show to start while they chit chatted with a cold drink in hand. Although the scene looked different, the feeling was the feeling I had been craving for 135 days. People kept their distance and some had masks on while others did not (again, this was outside so all social distancing rules were being followed). More and more people came up, sat at their tables and the normal chatter around us ensued. Tables were scattered throughout under the tent and the stage was set. ![]() Our conversations were interrupted by the sound check and with each thump of the bass drum, those butterflies seemed to take off in my stomach. We spent some time socializing with a group of friends and family we were meeting there and as nice as the human interaction was, I just wanted the show to start. I had butterflies in my stomach and my eyes must have been so wide by the time we finally parked and I hopped out of the car. I saw the giant white tent as my friend, her mom and I drove up to Crooners Supper Club just up the street from my house. I hope that count never gets that high again and, thanks to some amazing friends and an amazing venue embracing the change and figuring out how to pull off shows in this day and age, I can now say that it has been less than 24 hours since my last show and I haven’t felt this good in, well, 135 days. 135 days of a new normal that will never feel normal to me. 135 days of dreaming of the shows I was supposed to be at only to be rudely awaken by the thought of cleaning the house, again. 135 days of not knowing what the heck I’m doing or what the heck to do but getting through. 135 days of adapting to a new life where I actually got a normal amount of sleep every night (or at least normal for me) and have been eating things other than the “quick frozen pizza”. Although my house has never been cleaner and my cats have never been happier, my mental health has never been worse. ![]() That’s how many days I have gone without a concert. ![]()
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