Is there such a thing as “Going Out Burn-Out”? I have it.
After 20 some odd years of what I call, “aggressive going out,” I have pretty much lost my ability to tolerate a show. I get bored. The consideration of going, the ticket dilema, the waiting to go, the day of, the outfit, the shoes, the loss of comfortable couch and early pajamas, the creeping fatigue, the drive over, the parking, the price of parking, the walking to avoid the fee of parking, the talking loudly so you can be heard and hear your compatriot, the compratriotism, the other compatriots at the show, their small-talk, the expensive diet coke, the opening band, your band, the threat of an encore, the audience, and then finally, the joy of going home, so tired, it’s the middle of the week, you have to go to work tomorrow, to a job where people eMail you about how shitty you are, only because they don’t believe you’re a human, maybe even a nice girl who knows a few jokes, has a boyfriend who likes to play with her, enjoys writing, fumbling with music and learning to draw, photography too, and who wants nothing more than to do a good job in spite of you and your eMail.
However, of course, my opinion might change if I can sit at the show…
So what do I like now?
I like to read four books at one time with a fifth book being a dictionary. I like to listen to music at home, all comfortable and warm. I like to watch baseball. I like to play cut and paste with musical programs. I like to doodle. I like to write. I like to look at photography. I like to go hiking in oddly placed parks. I like bicycles. I dream.