I don’t remember much about the day, but I checked the date of the transaction: March 7th. Odds are that it was probably another gray not-quite-spring-yet day in the Pacific Northwest. I was going about my business, there was probably a notice on Facebook that said, “Hey, Lionel Richie along with Earth, Wind & Fire are coming to Climate Pledge in September!” Something inside me said, “You know, that would be a good show.” I’ve seen both before, but not together and with us all getting up there, come September, that would be a fun thing to do. So, I hopped online, found some seats that were as good as I could get for as much as I wanted to spend, and we had tickets. I was excited.

Yeah, we both pretty much look the same.

Somewhere between March 7th and September 11th, my enthusiasm has faded. Oh, not that it won’t be a great show. We’re actually meeting up with some friends, we’ll grab dinner somewhere together then scatter our separate ways. But maybe this is the part where someone creeping up on 68-years-old starts feeling his age.

For starters, there’s the cost. Ain’t cheap, McGee, for “OK” seats. By the time you add in (as my sister Debbie likes to say) all the “screw you” fees, those two seats clocked in at $327. Oh, you concert people who regularly sell your souls and lay out $500 to $1,000 for concert tickets–I will simply never get there. I still feel that $75 is a lot to go sit on the lawn at Chateau Ste. Michelle once a summer.

Because it’s not just the concert tickets. I’m bracing myself for $40 for parking, probably close to $100 for dinner somewhere and with the cost of the tickets, we’re now at a $500 night out. Basically, $100 an hour to go to a concert. And, on a Monday that will probably take me way past my 9 o’clock bedtime.

It’s at this point I would go out front and yell at kids to get off my lawn, but they’re all in school.

It’s just weird, seeing my senior citizen days rolling in like a dense fog. I’m coming up to a 50th high school reunion this weekend. Amazing how quickly do the math and then say, “Wow, you’re that old?” For you younger whipper-snappers that stumbled across this, I’m just letting you know that the whole aging process is one “Oh, they don’t do that anymore” after another.

Later this month, they’ll hold a “Fishermen’s Fall Festival” down on the Ballard waterfront as they have for years, (well, before COVID), and for most of the last 10 years, I’d be there as the emcee for their Lutefisk Eating Contest, my second one of the summer. But now, the fish market that sponsored the event has been sold, there are new owners, and that event of the festival is no longer around. (at least, with me involved)

Add to that, this week, I got the word that the pastor of our church, Our Redeemer’s Lutheran, is leaving to be closer to family back in the Midwest. She lost her dad this year, and with mom on her own and other relatives in the area, she wanted to get back there to reconnect with family while they’re still around. I totally get it. Working with her on Christmas Eve services or at the annual church auction are a couple more traditions I’ve really enjoyed over the past decade. And now, their future is uncertain. Oh, the church goes on, but it will be Pastor Gretchen-less.

Interestingly, I’m doing something along those lines this fall on a more short-term scale. I’ve got relatives I rarely see back in Minnesota and South Dakota, and so I decided it’s about time for me to go back for a one-week romp to reconnect with aunts, cousins and so. Early October in the Midwest, here I come!

Returning to the present, I’ve got Lionel and EW&F to enjoy tonight. To be honest, that “you’re an old guy now” gene has been tugging at me a lot today. Among its utterances: “Why the heck did you buy tickets for a concert on a Monday night?” and “You know, tonight is Aaron Rogers’ debut with the New York Jets. Wouldn’t it have been fun to stay home and watch that?”

Be gone, Geezer Gene!

I’ve truly seen a lot of great concerts over the years, from Frampton, Heart, Supertramp, Led Zeppelin and more during my college days, to Paul McCartney, the Stones, Don Henley and Joe Walsh in recent years. I never remember going to a concert feeling this inconvenienced before. Perhaps my concert-going days are over.

Maybe, just maybe, this might be the last one.

Tim Hunter