In the early 90's...
I was in college, then I wasn't...
I was looking for Mr. Right, then I found him...
My music came to me through the radio... I let the DJ's make the choices.
So, yes, I listened to Nirvana and Pearl Jam, but I never owned their cd's.
Then as their music became more popular, I was too busy to notice.
I got pregnant. I had a baby.
I got married.
My focus was inward...
We bought Sesame Street music and Veggie Tales.
The years passed and my music tastes grew with me and with my children.
I'm finally getting the opportunity to attend concerts with and without the children.
(Something, I didn't have much time to do when I was in my 20's because of the whole marriage and baby thing.)
So, when Dan asked if I wanted to go to a Pearl Jam concert, my instant answer was, "YES!"
We left the house, not worrying about babysitters and time schedules.
We were free to rock all night long!
We had decent seats.
The concert was excellent.
The crowd was excited.
But here's the thing...
When you are sitting next to die hard fans,
fans that have been into the band since it's conception in the early 90's,
fans that know every single word to every single song,
you start to feel a little bit...
just a tiny bit...
like a poser.
and that kind of sucks.
Joining in on Tia's Flashback Friday.