Mrs Demeanor and i went to a concert the other night to see Seether open for a band called 3 Doors Down. Now, here in Yeaman, both of these bands are unknown and only one of them is good. To give you an idea of just how messed up the world is, Seether was the warm up act and 3 Doors Down was the headliner which is like saying God opened up for Rebecca Black but there you go.
i don’t know if you know 3 Doors Down or not, but if you don’t, the best way to describe them is “cute metal”. “Sheet” metal. 3 Doors Down is the Avril Lavigne of metal, is what i’m saying.
Then, after a break, there was 1 hour and ½ of a Christian pop band performing finger pumping ballads that penetrated the virgin heart of every teen in the audience.
Don’t get me wrong, i understood the passion of those kids feeling each petty word they heard and i can’t fault them for it. On the contrary, it was fun watching the youth of the day get into the songs like i did Cinderella or Ronnie James Dio back in my “hey” days. Still, i felt i was trapped in a toybox at Ken and Barbie’s concert and even if i was welcome, i knew i didn’t belong.
My place was deep inside the Seether songs, with those battered and scarred survivors who have felt the full weight of the world both when it rolled over us and when we kicked its astronomy into a new orbit.
It was probably wrong of me to feel proud, but i knew i belonged under the bed, with the other broken toys.