I on the other hand like to zone completely out of everything else but the music. The Hollywood Bowl is such a special venue. Tucked away in the hills, under the stars, and surrounded by walls of green trees and ivy, it's seriously wonderful. I only took three pictures, and one video, because I didn't want to be distracted.
I have only ever afforded nosebleed seats, but ONE DAY I will save up and spring for the pool circle tickets so I won't be distracted by the people just there for "something to do". During the break between Phillip Phillips and John, they had music playing really low as they changed the stage around. People were talking and getting up to go to the bathroom, but I just sat there. And guess what I heard, ever so quietly. I heard Black Water by the Doobie Brothers. In case you haven't read my blog before, this is my dad's music. My dad died a couple of years ago very unexpectedly. Whenever I am doing something I really love, or I'm at a special place, I hear the Doobie Brothers. Disneyland? Doobie Brothers. A&W? (my dad's favorite) Doobie Brothers. John Mayer Concert? Doobie Brothers. I love it.
You see, I was raised by two (very) ex-hippies. When they started having us kids, they left their party days behind, but kept the music. I was raised listening to music most 31 year old women never have. Saturday mornings were spent cleaning the house with their records or my dad's reel to reels blaring through his giant speakers through our two-story house. My mom recently sent me two of his hundreds of reel to reels just so that I could have them. They are so special to me. I can remember my dad, even as he was in his 50's, turning on the reel to reels and sitting in the basement with the volume ALL the way up, singing his heart out for HOURS. I could do that. I could waste an entire day listening to music and not wanting to be interrupted. I died of embarrassment when my best friend saw my dad sing Taking Care of Business at the top of his lungs. Now it is one of my favorite memories.
I was talking to my husband about music on the drive home from the concert. Since I grew up in Ohio, and he grew up in California, I asked him if they spent music class in middle school listening to Beatles music and analyzing the lyrics. Nope. We did, and I'm not sure if it's because I grew up an hour from the capital of rock and roll, or if my teacher was a hippie. I didn't fully appreciate it then. Do you ever wish you could go back and take a few of your interesting classes as an adult? We would learn about the reasons behind the songs, such as "Ohio" by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. Music is supposed to have a purpose. Yes, sometimes the purpose is just to entertain, but I love that John's lyrics actually tell a story. They make sense.
I'm the girl with the weird playlist. When I die, someone is going to look at my ipod and say, "what was she thinking?" I'm the girl whose playlist includes Ben E. King, Otis Redding, Bachman Turner Overdrive, The Eagles, The Doobie Brothers, and Hall & Oates. I'm the girl who can call a Dream On cover off of one note.I'm the girl who knows all of the words to Linda Ronstadt's greatest hits album. I'm the girl whose 8 and 9 year old daugthers don't have a clue who One Direction is, could probably name only one Justin Beiber song, but can spot an AC/DC song a mile away. I'm the girl who listens to "Dear Marie", and when the last minute of the song arrives, closes her eyes, leans her head back, and is instantly transported back under a dark sky, tucked away in the Hollywood hills and my heart leaps as I sing, "oooooooooh, ooooooooh, oooooooooh."
Thank you, John.