Earlier this week, at the Mumford & Sons concert, I was sitting next to a bro who kept trying to cheers my empty fist. The first time, during “Little Lion Man,” I gave him a polite smile and smashed my fist against his cup of Coors Light. The third time he tried, I started to get testy. The bro may have gotten under my skin, but he sparked an important existential realization: not much has changed since my first Lollapalooza in 1992. Well, there were no cellphones back then, and I would never wear a red bra under a pair of conductor overalls with no T-shirt nowadays, but other than that, the people are pretty much the same. After nearly three decades of concert going, I think I’ve finally nailed down all the types. Keep reading »
Simply Irresistible
Frisky Chatter
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