Have I Aged Out of the Mosh Pit?

In late 2016, I lucked out in attending three shows at The Commodore; one of my favourite music venues in Vancouver and saw: KT Tunstall, A Tribe Called Red, and The Funk Hunters w/ Chali Tuna.

While I never intended to let my age stop me from experiencing live music and DJs, I left my last show reminiscing about a time when I would get to be right up front where Beth Ditto sweated all over me and Erykah Badu borrowed audience cell phones to take selfies.

I was disappointed that I didn’t get to see the ATCR B-girl dancers’ moves because I was too far back and was saddened that I didn’t get to high five Chali. Man, was he good! I tried, at the last show, I really did. I made my way to the middle and allowed myself to be pushed, sardined, slammed, bumped, spilled on, groped – but it quickly became too much…and I was the tall one in my group. We all had fear in our eyes: this is not fun. We wanted to dance and we couldn’t even breathe.

My way of experiencing music at this venue has undeniably changed over the years.  It doesn’t seem like it, but I must drink less. How else could I have handled the mosh pit back then? How else could I have lasted front and centre with the many glazed eyes of inebriation not noticing or caring about my existence? I never noticed their existence back then and it’s all I see now.

Acceptance is the first step to move forward. I will enjoy having dancing room, while at the Commodore, and will let the kidlings mosh their little drunken hearts out. I know that I can still get up front at smaller venues, right up against the speakers…so all is not lost.

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