Monday, Monday

There’s a lot going on.

Some great, some awful. Plus I’m anemic and that affects everything. I’ve gotta get that addressed so I’m healthy enough to take everything else on.

Yesterday I felt it. My stairs (the worst in all of Christendom) are leaving me winded. I always feel like I need a nap. Or caffeine or sugar. My brain is slow. I’m forgetting words. Names. Blanking. Leaving my glasses or keys at home. Cancelling plans.

The good thing is that I know how to fix it. I’ve come back from it. The sooner the better. It’s not easy to take care of yourself when you’re lacking oxygen. But it’s what you’ve got to do.

If I needed any confirmation of all of this, I got a very uncool text from my father. Just a photo of my mother in the hospital. That’s his level of tact. That’s how I get informed of things. My mother doesn’t take care of her health and my father doesn’t take care of her health financially, so this is where they end up. It’s a fear of mine that’s not irrational that one day I’ll just get a text. A photo of flowers and I’ll realize that they’re from a funeral.

But let’s talk about the good for a minute.

Let’s talk about The Linda Lindas.

This article really does a good job of laying the groundwork. As Karen O says in the article, watching those kids is life affirming.

Nikola and I were at Joe’s Pizza in Williamsburg before the show. We’re eating slices and looking out the window when three little girls and a man appear on the sidewalk. The girls are eight, maybe? All in pleather motorcycle jackets. Their hair done up. Sparkly shoes and makeup. They look like Pink Ladies. It’s obvious they’re going to see the Linda Lindas too.

So we talk to them and their dad, who is capturing this momentous occasion with his phone, even going outside to get a shot of them lined up eating their pizza.

He’s been explaining concerts to them. What a mosh pit is. This is their first show ever. They don’t know it now, but this night is going to become part of their personal trivia for the rest of their lives.

What a band to entrust your children with. Consummate musicians. Funny. Irreverent. They owned that stage. They had all the kids come to the front. Little kids with cat ears. They taught them how to head bang. They talked about the importance of voting. It was so wholesome and so punk rock.

We were up in the balcony and I just kept looking into the audience to watch the kids. My grinch heart grew three times its size. Even when Nikola and I were explaining this to Mikey later, he was overtaken by how special the night was.

How fortunate am I to have a friend like Nikola to include me. And even more so to see this beautiful thing unfold. On our way out I saw a tiny little girl clutching one of the drumsticks the drummer gave out and I was sincerely ecstatic for her.

Nikola calls concerts “church.” I guess that says everything.

The night before that I saw The Killers at MSG. Johnny Marr opened and played with the band. Bruce Springsteen played the encore. Long story short, 6/10.

I’m looking forward to having more energy. In the meantime I have to remind myself that things aren’t bleak as they seem.

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