Saturday night I took my daughter Robin to the Taylor Swift concert. Fact number one, I am not a Taylor Swift fan. On the ride home from the concert (which had a two hour thunder/lightning/wind/rain delay) I was tired and cranky (I know, such an unusual state for me) and my co-pilot had fallen asleep. As I drove, trying to avoid the various "interesting" drivers on 76 and 422 at 2:00 a.m., I was formulating this blog post.
I was going through all the bands I have seen live and was comparing them to the concert I had just attended. It was a fairly harsh review I was going to give Ms Swift but then I stopped. I turned my thoughts to what a wonderful evening it had been.
The magic of seeing an 11 year's old face light up upon going to their first rock concert. The magic of a mother spending one on one time with one daughter when she has four. The magic of giggles and fun and smiles. If I wrote the post I had started out tinkering with, it would have sucked the real reason why I went to the concert in the first place.
Was I expecting to have a good time at a Taylor Swift concert? No. Did I end up having a good time (despite Taylor Swift)? Yes. Because the magic of seeing her little face light up when her hero took the stage and the freedom of two girls hanging out together on a Saturday night was what made it all worthwhile.
$4 water bottles and all.