On Friday night we went to the Taylor Swift concert. For those of you who wrote that I would have an amazing time -- you were right. The girl puts on a show; a spectacle really. I was in awe. I was staring at the stage, and hearing 55,000 people around me shout, and scream, and kind-of/sort-of sing with her and just had this overwhelming feeling of happiness. Imagine, being her for a split second? I just can't even believe that one person is able to captivate an audience like that. It's crazy. In the totally perfect, wouldn't want it any other way, kind of way.
You know that surprised look that Taylor always has when she wins awards? And from behind the TV, you're like "really? you win like everything, why are you so surprised?" Well, seeing it in person -- I believe it now. I no longer think of it as a "surprised" look but rather a "I'm genuinely grateful for this to still be happening" look.
I guess I should have looked up what "being at a Taylor Swift concert" entailed. If so, I would have found pictures of girls (young and grown) in sundresses, cowboy boots, cowboy hats, red clothes, cut-off shorts, cut-off shirts, red bandanas, face paint, holding home-made signs, with writing all other their arms, tears in their eyes, and smiles on their faces. Now, on Friday night it was cold. At least, it was cold for July. It rained all day, it rained on and off during the concert and at times it straight poured. But that didn't stop anyone from enjoying themselves. It didn't stop anyone from shouting and dancing and singing. And it surely didn't send people running for cover or heading home.
The thing I noticed about T. Swift is that she has fans from every decade. We saw children who looked like they just started walking last week; and we saw grown adults who could probably be Taylor Swift's great-grandparents. My favorite people: the parents who so clearly would not be in attendance if not for their children. Sometimes it was a mom, sometimes it was a dad, sometimes it was both mom and dad; shelling out money for t-shirts, holding their daughter's hand-made sign underneath their jacket so that it wouldn't get ruined or wet, and just all around asking things like "are you having fun?" or even better saying "you were right, this is fun".
Now, Sean and I clearly don't fall into either of those categories of people. I wasn't in red (I wore navy, oops), I didn't make a sign (but was absolutely jealous of all the creativity) and we aren't parents (this treat was for me). Which leads me to another group of people present: couples.
Sean made an observation that is probably pretty accurate; for every 50 girls at this concert, there may have been 1 guy. Maybe. Most of those guys looked a lot like Sean... as in, they were holding a beer, leaning against something, scrolling through their phone (occasionally were asked to take pictures of the girl they were with), while using up their slightly fake "yeah, I'm totally having fun" face. In fairness, a concert like this wasn't totally horrible for him; there was never a line for the men's bathroom or to buy a beer (perks of being somewhere that the majority of attendees can't drink), and he got to watch Ed Sheeran who is extremely musically talented. But let's face it: he did this for me.