Beaming Matron

Despite the pink-tinged fog of Aging Denial I’ve floated in since getting carded recently, I do realize that I am getting old…ish. It has been glaringly apparent to me this past week, as The Teens each participated in some Performing Arts.

Butterfly danced Hip Hop and jazz in an Orchesis show at her High School. And she did really well……hopping. And bouncing. Which is characteristic of Hip Hop. She and her two dance partners performed with well-coordinated precision. Super Hubs and I were impressed. But the music! It was a mix of Hip Hop and Rap. And I just don’t get why it’s called “music.” The loudness….the lyrics (are they in fact lyrics?)! They were spoken so fast I spaced out for a moment and thought I was at an auction, and feared when I scratched my nose that I had just bought an antique horse plow or something.
Butterfly did great and I was proud. But I felt old. Proud and old. I don’t understand the music, or the dance. If I tried to perform Hip Hop, I’m certain my lower back would spasm from all the bendy moves. OMG aging sucks!

Then Rock Star played electric guitar in his church youth rock band. His performance included a lot of squinting, and I wasn’t certain if it was from the spotlights or the fact that he’d forgotten to put in his contacts that morning. But even with his impaired vision, Rock Star was terrific. And again, I felt proud and old. Proud because my son played in a rock band. And old…… because my son played in a rock band.

I think I need to go back to that particular restaurant and get carded again. Just for Old Time Sake. (Pun intended. Wasn’t it clever??)