I have stuffed my ever-spreading Midwestern ass into my Levis, pulled on my concert-goin' sweater, and my fabulously well-matched concert-going shoes. I encouraged my hair to curl. I put on foundation and lipstick.
I am going to the Guster concert. I plan to have fun. Screw you, music marketers, you and all your demographics.
On the other hand, I am in effect going with my Dad (that would be Gary), and he won't let me drink or scream like a girl.
How long can I do this? Seventy? Eighty?