Wanted: Concert Buddy

I've always accepted the fact that I'm an oddball.  I'm a chick, but I don't like chick flicks.  I like passion, but think romance is corny and sweet talk sounds childish.  My favorite fiction is the grimmest dystopia scenarios ever published, yet I tend to be an optimist.  I am grateful to Eli Roth for bringing back the horror film and modernizing it, and I really, really love hardcore music.

I am fine with living in the 'burbs in order to bring my kids the stability that I never had growing up, but it gets a bit lonesome when I attempt to search out oddballs such as myself.  There are billions of people in the world, but apparently I am the only suburb mom in Orange County who happens to be a fan of hardcore music.  Although I should be happy about this, because it makes me unique, I would be lying if I said I liked going to concerts alone.

I've heard the suggestion that I should take my husband, even if he doesn't care for the music.  When pressed, I know Jeff would go, but my kind of music would, frankly, scare the hell out of him.  He made it through exactly 2.5 minutes of the recent Revolver Golden Gods Awards broadcast before looking at me and asking if I understood what the hell the vocalist in Anthrax was singing about.  In those 2.5 minutes, he also managed a half dozen comments about how freakish the band and audience looked.  I married a great guy whose only fault is believing that the musical sun rises and sets to Billy Joel.  Nothing against Billy, after all, I enjoy the piano man from time to time, but he is nothing close to what is usually blaring through my iTunes catalog.

For quite a long time, I was spoiled.  I lived in Seattle where I could always manage to wrangle an old friend from art school or someone I knew a million years ago when I worked in the music biz to go to concerts with.  Sometimes I wouldn't even have to reach out, because I knew they would just be there.  Seattle, despite the corporate makeover it experienced 15 years ago, has always been a great music town.  Now, I live in one of the most conservative counties in California, because God has one hell of a sense of humor, and in the 'burbs, no less, where I can find copious amounts of cupcake recipe referrals, advice on the best area dog walking trails, and sympathy for the horrible drop-off traffic at my kid's elementary school, but no other human who resides here and does their morning drive to Slipknot, Disturbed, or Iron Maiden.

I almost wish there was a creep-free Craigslist where I could list an ad.  "Wanted: Concert buddy to accompany suburb mom to hardcore music shows.  Must also be a normal-appearing suburb mom who lives in the suburbs for their kids' sake."  At this point, I would even accept a suburb dad, because I know I would probably have more luck finding a male who loves hardcore music, since this always seems to be the case.

The good news is that Shayna seems to be a lot more open to harder music than Rachael, so perhaps I see a light at the end of my solo concert-going tunnel.  Sure, it might take another 10 years before I will let her go to one of my shows, but at least that is something for me to look forward to.  In the meantime, if you happen to be at an area hardcore show, and you see a short, dark-haired woman who you think might have ended up in the wrong place, hanging out in the corner waiting for the show to start, it's me.  Come by and say, "hi", because, aside from the two-minute chat with the bartender, it will be the best conversation I will have that night.