Fort Mason Dog Park at sunset.
When I was a senior in high school, I bought tickets to see REM. I spent a good $40 of my money on a general admission ticket, and this was 17 years ago. My love affair with Michael Stipe and Peter Buck began on a plane somewhere between San Francisco and Salt Lake City. I was meeting my family for a ski trip in Utah, and I had the Out of Time cassette playing over and over in my yellow Walkman Sport, which was held together with a large blue rubber band.
There are still songs on that album that take me back to the simplicity that was freshman year of high school. My favorite album remains Murmur, and tracks 4,5 and 6 continue to be the holy trinity of the album to me: Talk About the Passion, Moral Kiosk, Perfect Circle. Three stoic songs plugging along so many years later.
Sadly, I didn’t get to go to the concert, and I was heartbroken. I was extremely sick with a stomach attack that still, 17 years later, remains unresolved. My mom wouldn’t let me go. She was never unreasonable, but I remember being nasty about it because I thought I could be. Low and behold, I ended up in the ER that night. My friends bought me a t-shirt with the money they made selling my ticket, and I realized, like usual, moms are always right.
I was supposed to see REM two years ago at the Bridge School Benefit, a Continue reading
