Old Man

My roommate, Betty Boop, asked me out of the blue last Thursday, "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

For some reason, having nothing to do with her, that question always raises my hackles. I'm instantly on guard, afraid I'm going to end up doing a reading of some gawd-awful play that I can't escape. I'm not naming names.

In any case, in this instance, Betty Boop was not out to rope me into something that I didn't want to do, but instead was offering me an extra ticket for the Dashboard Confessional concert at Madison Square Garden, compliments of her employers, The Money Men.

Admitting that I actually enjoy their music will earn me ridicule from some of my closest friends. Not the least of which is the male half of the Lagemæ, who will surely mutter, "Fucking hipsters" and shake his head despondently. Most of my gay friends will nod knowingly and call me a chicken hawk, assuming that I crush on lead singer Chris Carrabba.

Now, I won't deny that I think he's an attractive man. What, am I blind? And it won't be lost on anyone who knows me really, really well that he bears a passing resemblance to a certain friend of Kenjiman's upon whom I've been known to crush.

Still, I enjoy their music, for whatever reason, and happily jumped at the chance to see the concert for free.

I enjoyed it well enough, but there's just no escaping the fact that I'm really, really old.

The joint was chock full of young girls (some of whom had to be accompanied by parents, which caused me no end of disquiet when I stopped to consider how much Carrabba flirts with the audience), and my reaction to the crowd and the noise and and the madness of an arena full of young girls singing along with a cute guy on stage was pretty much that of any old guy in such a situation: Complete bewilderment.

Any chance of my being smitten by this kid, of course, was trounced when — in reaction to some girl throwing a T-shirt on stage for him — he shouted something along the lines of "Hey baby, what's this? That's not lingerie!" I was all, "Huh?!?"

I think there's a lesson to be learned, here. I think maybe I should just enjoy the bands I enjoy in their recorded form only. Or at least those bands that are fronted by hot young men.