The Power of Concerts
Lots of people think they can’t get along with people who are different from them, different in size, color, style, social status. But every now and then, people are proven wrong. A moment, an opportunity, or an event can prove them wrong. Concerts are such an event.
Just last weekend, my friend and I went to a concert. We swarmed into the huge arena with a massive throng of strangers. We were grappling with the motley crowd, a mix of all types of people, jockeying for our position, trying to stake out our places on the floor as close as possible to the stage. Someone bumped into me hard and someone else stepped on my foot, and I was wishing I didn’t have to deal with this annoying crowd. But then the lights dimmed and the band took their spots on the stage, and when the music began, everything changed.
Everyone was suddenly one. The crowd’s rhythm wave began. Slowly the voices started up, the fans started singing, a choir in perfect harmony. As I stood there in this perfect crowd, I knew I was where I needed to be. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
We had all come from different walks of life, different neighborhoods, different backgrounds, different real worlds, but we had two things in common: We all had general admission tickets tucked in our pockets, our purses, our wallets and our jackets, and we all shared a passion for this band.
As I stood there in the crowd, I heard a big voice booming out beside me, and I looked over to see it was coming from a scary looking biker dude, a guy I would honestly be afraid to talk to in the real world, but there I gave him a thumbs up and a smile. And then I noticed a cool-looking, buff college guy arm-in-arm with a middle-aged frumpy woman. They were an unlikely duo, but they were both singing their hearts out. No one cared what they looked or sounded like. Everyone was there because they shared the same love. From “popular” girls to mid-life crisis status-looking parents, everyone threw their arms up and joined together in a sea of inner musical, emotional acceptance.
There I was in this huge throng of people, everyone invading each other’s sphere of personal space. Normally, I would feel uncomfortable being too close to strangers, but concerts are an exception. Someone else stepped on my foot, and it didn’t matter.
We didn’t know each other that night, but everyone was family. Concerts unite people in a common bond. They bring all kinds of people together to sing the same song. And in this, I believe.
Just last weekend, my friend and I went to a concert. We swarmed into the huge arena with a massive throng of strangers. We were grappling with the motley crowd, a mix of all types of people, jockeying for our position, trying to stake out our places on the floor as close as possible to the stage. Someone bumped into me hard and someone else stepped on my foot, and I was wishing I didn’t have to deal with this annoying crowd. But then the lights dimmed and the band took their spots on the stage, and when the music began, everything changed.
Everyone was suddenly one. The crowd’s rhythm wave began. Slowly the voices started up, the fans started singing, a choir in perfect harmony. As I stood there in this perfect crowd, I knew I was where I needed to be. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
We had all come from different walks of life, different neighborhoods, different backgrounds, different real worlds, but we had two things in common: We all had general admission tickets tucked in our pockets, our purses, our wallets and our jackets, and we all shared a passion for this band.
As I stood there in the crowd, I heard a big voice booming out beside me, and I looked over to see it was coming from a scary looking biker dude, a guy I would honestly be afraid to talk to in the real world, but there I gave him a thumbs up and a smile. And then I noticed a cool-looking, buff college guy arm-in-arm with a middle-aged frumpy woman. They were an unlikely duo, but they were both singing their hearts out. No one cared what they looked or sounded like. Everyone was there because they shared the same love. From “popular” girls to mid-life crisis status-looking parents, everyone threw their arms up and joined together in a sea of inner musical, emotional acceptance.
There I was in this huge throng of people, everyone invading each other’s sphere of personal space. Normally, I would feel uncomfortable being too close to strangers, but concerts are an exception. Someone else stepped on my foot, and it didn’t matter.
We didn’t know each other that night, but everyone was family. Concerts unite people in a common bond. They bring all kinds of people together to sing the same song. And in this, I believe.