Back in Time

My daughter wanted to go to a concert tonight; a band comprised of several relatives of several friends was scheduled to play at a local venue in an all-ages show. She is kind to me and, since she wanted to go so badly, acquiesced to allowing me to accompany her (probably because I wouldn't have allowed her to set foot in that joint any other way).

I enjoyed the show: I've been a performance artist since I can remember and try to support local talent whenever I have the chance. We stayed for two bands and both showed such energetic promise that it would have been difficult to remain unaffected.

But by far the most entertaining and touching part of the evening was watching my daughter and her friends. They love each other. They touch so easily and show affection with perfect trust and open, unguarded faces. They dance any way they want to and without a care - or not at all - and they support each other in their creative oblivion. They note my presence and suck me into their dynamic without blinking an eye or promoting any kind of silly "no parents" expectation. They look out for each other and demonstrate a fierce clannishness at the first sign of fear. Their surety of themselves and each other is evident in every word, gesture, and good-natured prank.

I left the venue fourteen dollars poorer and profoundly affected.