Getting Out

I have always loved music. Music is part of my everyday, I dance with my kids and I sing, and on the rare occasion that I'm alone in my van, or out for a jog or at the gym, I crank it out.  It makes me feel good, or helps me deal with anger or sadness or a variety of other things that may be muddling about in my head. 

Music is good. 

Live music is better.

There are lots of bands that I like, a few that I love.  However, there are only a handful of bands that I would go to the trouble of seeing live - even though live music rocks my world.  Right now seeing a band live involves spending precious maternity-leave-employment-insurance funds on tickets, finding (buying) something to wear (because there are few venues where you don't get looks for wearing your sweats), organizing and arranging someone to look after my two very young children (preferably overnight), making my way on some sort of public transit into the city, braving crowds of people that almost always piss me off, and it also almost always means sacrificing some of my precious, precious sleep - as most bands don't start up until after dark - which is when I'm usually in bed, hiding under the covers, praying my kids will sleep through the night.

I'm sure you can understand why there are few bands that are worth that kind of effort these days.

Really, very few.

But in July I discovered Grace Potter and the Nocturnals. And I fell in LOVE. 

And I swore that if Grace Potter ever came to Vancouver then I would go.

Well wouldn't you know I found out just before Christmas that Grace Potter is coming to town! I knew I MUST find a way to see the band live. 

That is why I was so excited to get two of these for Christmas...


The person who bought these for me had to know me well. They had to know how crazy I am for this band and also that I would make any and all efforts to go see them. 

The person who bought me these tickets is obviously a very thoughtful and special person.

OK, yes, I bought them for myself.

So next weekend the kids are heading to Grammy's house, I've picked up a new pair of jeans and shirt and I will be braving the skytrain to head into the city, into the entertainment district, into a club who's website shows photos of scantily clad people young enough to be my... *ahem*... MUCH younger... uh... siblings.

And I will ROCK OUT like the best of them.

And by "them" I mean mid-thirties exhausted mothers of two.