footprintsontheceiling

A Tale of Two Weekends

In aging on December 22, 2008 at 6:09 pm

black-crowes-pic1caviar_in_jar2

Such is December:

 

Last weekend I found myself at the Black Crowes show at the Fillmore, here in Denver, with some friends.  Great show (I love the Crowes, so my bias will show through), great night.  Naturally we went out drinking beforehand at the Uptown Tavern, where they were having happy hour, so I ordered two rounds of vodka for every round I really needed.  Which is to say I was probably mildly intoxicated.  Hard to believe.  Then, by the time the Crowes took the stage, you could barely see the stage through the haze in the Fillmore.  Which is to say people in the audience were partaking of a green leafy substance which is, by one friend’s account, legal in Denver.  I’m a little hazy on that and, by the time the Crowes were finished playing two hours later, I was a little hazy on just about everything.  Which is to say I was probably legally stoned.  Hard to believe.  So, to sober up, we went back to the Uptown Tavern and had nachos and, yes, another vodka or two.  And I spent Sunday on the couch, watching football, recovering.

 

This weekend, by comparison, was positively uppity.  Friday night Mrs. C and I went to the VIP Night at the Jersey Boys Musical down at the Denver Performing Arts Complex.  It was something that one of her co-workers put together; basically somebody pays for a table of 10 and you go early, have some drinks, have a nice dinner, and go see the Jersey Boys show.  Now keep in mind that at the Black Crowes show last week, my friends and I were in the upper 5% of age in the place, I’d guess.  I mean, I’m 44.  But at the VIP Night at Jersey Boys, I’d say my wife and I were in the lower 5% of age in that place.  It was a positively older, well-heeled, gray haired crowd.  And they know how to party, albeit in a less hazy way.  Good drinks, good dinner….but the part that made me think about the dichotomy of the weekends was when the waiters were walking around with hors d’oeuvres and a guy came by with a sashimi tuna thing on a little cracker….with caviar on top.  I took one, ate it, and realized, about a half an hour later, that I had caviar stuck between my teeth. 

 

One weekend I’m getting stoned second hand and listening to the best damned rock and roll band in the world with 3,000 of what, that night, were my closest friends, the next weekend I was dressed to the nines with caviar stuck between my teeth, hanging out with wealthy gray hairs and watching a musical about Frankie Valli and the 4 Seasons.  Yes, my friends, this is the dichotomy of being 44 years old and straddling youth and middle age. 

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  1. I love this post! Straddling two worlds indeed. May there always be room for both worlds.

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