Imagine one of your all-time favorite musical artists. Do it, go on. Alright, got the image in your head? Good. Now, imagine yourself on Christmas morning or the first night of Hanukkah or any other holiday you celebrate. There’s one small gift left under the tree/menorah…You slide your hand under and snatch it up. Hm. It’s quite light. Maybe a pair of earrings or a necklace. You carefully open it (you’re a stickler for saving wrapping paper), and in your quavering hands lie a pair of tickets to see Your All-Time Favorite Musical Artist in concert. WHAT. NO WAY. WHAT. Tears. Immediately. Your vision is blurred and you don’t know who to hug. Your mom, your dad, your dog, your Christmas tree. You finally wipe away the tears and somehow stammer out a thank-you to whoever bought you the golden tickets. For the rest of the day you clutch your beautiful pieces of paper in your hands. When your aunt asks you what your favorite gift wa-“THE CONCERT TICKETS.” You get my point.
Months go by and the day of the concert arrives. It’s a warm summer day in August, let’s say. You almost forget that the big show is tonight. Except, we all know you would never let that slip your mind- you’ve had your concert outfit laid out since December. It’s five minutes until you have to leave with your concert-buddy for the show. You pull up Twitter and all you can type is “WOW TEH CONCERTT IS TONITE WHAT THTE JEVCK I LEVAE IN LIKE FIVE MINUTES WHAT IS LFIE. AFHUWEFBBVE”. Now with that out of the way, you can get on with the journey to the stadium. You and your friend blast the artist’s music all the way to the location, of course. Wow, you are PUMPED for the night to begin.
You find overpriced parking and look over at your excited friend and whisper the word: “Ready??” Of course you are. You jump out of the car, slam the door shut, and exclaim, “WOOOOOOO!!! LET’S GOOOOO!!” You grab your friend’s arm and start power walking towards the stadium. It gets closer and closer, but also bigger and bigger whilst your eyes grow wider and wider with anticipation.
You pull out your ticket and proudly show it to the beyond-over-it ticket-checker lady and, once again, yelp with excitement and skip inside, she’s sighs and says, “NEEEXT”. At this point you say to your friend, “I can’t do this. Literally I wanna go home, I can’t do this.” She pushes you (hard) and says, “Shut up, we’re here. Get yourself together.” You snap back to reality and speed on. You find your seats. Wow. The stage is HUMONGOUS. Like, GINORMOUS. I mean, WOW. There’s a catwalk and EVERYTHING. You’re maybe almost a little too excited about the size of the stage. It’s just the stage…Right?
It’s still light outside so you know there’s still a good bit of time before the opening act begins. The two giant screens sitting on the sides of the stage play various music videos and ads for both the opening and main acts. The anticipation is literally (figuratively) killing you.
Finally, the opening act appears onstage and absolutely smashes it. Just as you had expected. Amazing. This only makes you more psyched for the main act. Oh, but what is this?? A stadium employee giving people with shabby seats (aka you and your friend) upgraded tickets? For free?? She gets to you and your friend and simply hands you the tickets. Your friend says, “We’ll go check it out and see if they’re any better than up here.” You totally agree and off you go.
You get to the threshold of your new section and you’re on the same level as the stage. The tears stream down your face….Again. You claw at your friend’s arm and ask her about ten times if this is real life, then find your delegated seats and sit in your own pool of tears. You’re now about sixty feet away from the stage. You’re definitely staying down here.
The daylight disappears and the lights in the stadium finally go out, leaving the lights around the stage to illuminate the night. The opening video plays. You’re shaking. You’re looking around at other people. What do you do with yourself?! It’s the end of the video…And on the two big screens you see the front of the stage cast onto them….The middle screen in center stage slowly lifts and there stand your idols. The people whose music you’ve listened to since you were, like, twelve years old. Whose videos you’ve watched again and again. Whose Instagrams and Twitters you follow. The people who have become simply figures on a pedestal that you’ll never meet, never touch, never see. The people who are far too busy to notice your incessant tweets dedicated to them. The people who the only way you’ve ever been able to interact with is by double-tapping their pictures and favoriting their every last tweet. But now you’re here. And they’re here. Within less than sixty feet of you. You finally realize that yes, they breathe and move and have blood flowing through their veins. They make facial expressions and play with their (gorgeous) hair. And sing. And dance. And they’re doing it, live, in front of you. So you scream. And loudly. Oh, yeah, then you cry as well. Loudly. You simply cannot resist it. The people who’ve been blocked off from you by a computer screen are here, sweating and running around, right before your very teary eyes.
And that is why we scream.
Our upgraded seats (For the first night we attended).
Original seats on the second night.