Phish

Last Saturday night, the hubs and I headed out for our annual Phish concert. I know, I know. Hard to believe that this Lilly-loving girl could be out there with all the hippies. Even harder to believe that I have seen Phish more than 20 times, in locales as far away as Vegas.

Now, I’ll admit that the Phish fan in me was created by Morgan, when we were dating. He had seen them a bunch, and took me to Atlanta in the summer of 1999 for my first two shows. It’s funny. Back then, in my 20s, I was not nearly as secure and comfortable in just being me. I used to feel like I needed to shed my preppy attire and  try to look more like the typical Phish girls. Long skirts and dresses, flowy tops, etc. That’s not me. It wasn’t then, and it certainly isn’t now. Even then, I think I usually just threw on jeans with flip flops and a tank top. That’s as hippie as it gets for me.

These days, I don’t care if they think I’m a DEA agent disguised as a regular concert-goer. I just wear my clothes. At this point, I’m so much older than most of the fans, it really doesn’t matter. They aren’t looking at me. So, I decided to sport a stripey little LOFT dress. Morgan wore stripes, too. Matching married couple!

 

I had really not been looking forward to the night. I kept thinking, “I’m almost 35 years old. Why I am going to see Phish? I can’t deal with that crowd. Can’t we just go out for dinner somewhere nice?” As it turns out, I had a great time. I also consumed entirely too much $11 canned beer. Admittedly, that probably enhanced my good time. We were also in a VIP box, so I had a good amount of space away from the ecstacy-taking 20-year-old girls. Helpful.

Something tells me that I would have been hard pressed to find anyone else in that crowd who has also seen Britney live.

I just heard she added Raleigh to her Femme Fatale tour dates, so you know I’m thinking about going. Who’s in?