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pennceepenncee Posts: 16
edited September 2011 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
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I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing......Only I will remain—Dune, George Herbert
In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day—I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!—Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte
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  • rollingsrollings Posts: 7,124
    penncee wrote:
    This was my 13-year-old son’s third concert, all of which he has seen in 2011 in the following order:
    Neil Young, Massey Hall, Toronto, ON , Canada
    Blink 182, Molson Amphitheatre, Toronto, ON, Canada
    Pearl Jam, Copps Coliseum, Hamilton, ON, Canada

    Niall was sad that he missed Show 1 at ACC (Sept 11, 2011) because Neil Young came out to sing RITFW. Neil Young is his favourite artist and his namesake; although we adopted the Irish Gallic spelling of the first king of Ireland for him (I was reading “Shakey” and “Neil and Me” when I was pregnant and wondering what to name him). Niall loves the songs Cortez the Killer, Helpless, Ambulance Blues, Southern Man, Down by the River. On the way home from PJ we remembered how we both teared up during Neil’s opening song at Massey Hall: Hey, Hey, My, My , My. I felt the same way when Eddie sang Just Breathe at Copps. It tore at my heart-strings, as did his memory of Johnny Ramone dying and his first daughter breathing on as a kind of replacement. It’s a hard, but necessary thing to “get”.

    Niall said he liked PJ’s slow songs. He didn’t much like their rock songs, yet. I am certain that with maturity, he will grow to love guitar narratives; he has cut his teeth on the best of the best: what Rolling Stone described as the four-armed monster (I’m an old Dead Head-b. 1967, favourite era 1969-77--who loves Gerry for having the fingers of Orpheus and the voice of an angel-fuck, McCready-you’ve aged better than a fine wine-mercurial, smooth,still).
    Niall told his dad that he couldn’t believe Mom. She was so into it; she looked like she was high, air-guitaring - gesticulating during Porch. I was straight (so very hard-but a testament to your talents) and found it impossible not to go inside that song-dancing, hooting, air-guitaring-realizing that I had been listening to PJ during all the vital psychic moments I have ever had as an adult.

    Thank you Eddie for teaching me about forgiveness, faith, and mostly that it’s alright to say “this is not for you”, and “Fuck you”, sometimes…only when it matters.

    As Niall was going to bed after the concert, I thanked him for coming with me. He thanked me for taking him.

    Before he left on a weekend trip to Kingston, ON to visit his brother at Queen’s University, Niall thanked me again for taking him to the concert.
    Niall watched me air-guitar and sing the lyrics to every song and understood this band meant a lot to me, things unspoken, Un-/Thoughts Known.
    Thank you PJ for giving Niall a small token of his mother and his mother a small token of him…he knows he’s Alive, as does his mother about herself. Many thanks.
    Sorry for the long post. It’s only my second in 20 years of fandom and one year of Ten Club-dom.

    and a mighty fine post at that.

    you said it well

    Neil Young, Grateful Dead, Pearl Jam--heart/love/vital psychic/life medicine for sure
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