I’m sure there are people who think it inappropriate that I carried my seven year old daughter to a rock concert on Saturday night; I even felt a few stares at the show. I can honestly say it was one of the best moments I’ve spent with Ella in her short little life. When you find out you are having a baby girl, all these thoughts go through your mind about the fun, girly things you’ll be able to share. Coffee dates, pedicures, shopping trips, beach weekends. I never really thought about music when making that mental list. She’s seven and her musical tastes aren’t all that palatable to me, most of the time. There are rare moments when she belts out an old Pearl Jam song or Mumford & Sons or even The Head & the Heart and my heart swells with pride. This kid is going to have excellent taste in music one day. She asked for the concert ticket for her birthday and I happily obliged. It was one of those rare moments when I could introduce her to something wonderful before her first concert experience was spoiled by The Fresh Beat Band or something equally embarrassing. The language was tame, the content was wholly appropriate for her age and the stage show was just exciting enough to keep her entertained, but not so loud and obnoxious that she complained the whole time.
We got in the merchandise line as soon as we arrived and snagged the tiniest $40 t-shirt we could find (she’s worn it around the clock for the last 72 hours). We had great seats and she was just tall enough when standing in her chair to see the stage perfectly. Phillip Phillips opened up and when he played Home to finish out his set, she timidly clapped her hands and looked around at all the people dancing. I had to squat down and have a little heart to heart with her. I reminded her that nobody was watching. It was okay to dance and spin around and squeal — everyone was looking at the stage and she deserved to do all the things she wanted to without fear of judgment. She seemed a little more confident after our chat. When the house lights went out and she hopped up in her chair and wrapped her little arms around my neck, I was grinning from ear to ear. When John started strumming the opening chords to the first song of his set, I knew it was going to be good. I knew what she hadn’t figured out just yet. He was about to play her favorite song. First. When the opening line of Queen of California was sung, she looked at me with wide eyes and squealed, “He’s playing my song!!” Y’all, she danced her sweet little heart out and sang every word to the first four songs. It couldn’t have been a better set list if she had made it herself.
in our concert shirts before bed last night
She did get a little tired towards the end. Once he started playing songs from his first album on an acoustic guitar, she took a break from dancing and fell asleep in her chair. I danced enough for the both of us. The encore was beautiful and aside from his 2005 Trio show in Atlanta (I was pregnant with Ella and on the front row), it was the best show I’ve seen him perform. I left with a smile on my face, a song in my heart and one tired little hand in mine.
You can read the recap of Saturday’s show, along with the set list, here on John’s website.
“Fathers be good to your daughters,
for daughters will love like you do.
Girls become lovers, who turn into mothers.
So mothers be good to your daughters, too.”
Daughters, John Mayer (2003)
