Your cart is currently empty!
Experiencing Live Music in Your 40s: A Bittersweet Pleasure
Updated: Aug. 20, 2015
Originally Published: April 28, 2015
As I look at the younger Gen X crowd, I feel an urgency to share my experiences with them—especially since I’m part of that early wave that distinguishes us from the Boomers. I’ve reached a point in life where attending concerts has become a painful yet oddly satisfying endeavor.
It all started about six years ago when a nagging pain in my right foot escalated into a full-blown case of plantar fasciitis. There was no specific injury; one day I just woke up and my body decided it was done with my youthful whims. Gone were the days of wearing trendy heeled boots to shows or cute flats. Instead, I found myself relying on heel stretches, custom insoles, and sensible clogs with arch support. I tried to convince myself that as long as the music was good, no one would notice my orthopedic footwear. I strapped on my black clogs and kept rocking out—albeit not “rocking” in the sense of a rocking chair, at least not yet. I still managed to dance at a Black Keys concert, enjoy a Book of Love reunion tour in a dimly lit club, and revel in a Lord Huron encore at the Fillmore in San Francisco. I thought, surely, the foot issues were the worst of it.
But my aging body had other plans. A minor strain in my right shoulder, from tossing a pinecone for my dog, turned into a painful saga. My husband, ever the critic, pointed out my less-than-stellar throwing technique. Over time, it morphed into full-blown capsulitis, or Frozen Shoulder syndrome. This isn’t the fun kind of “Frozen” that you see in Disney movies; it’s the type where raising my arm past my ribcage feels like a Herculean task. I can’t even zip up a dress or lift anything heavier than a soup can.
Most painfully, I can no longer wave my arms in the air like I used to. The last time I did, while dancing to “Blister in the Sun” by the Violent Femmes, I had to take a knee because the pain shot through my shoulder. The specialist who diagnosed me said this is a common ailment among women in their 40s to 60s. My hairdresser chimed in, “I had it too. Menopause is next.” I’m half expecting an AARP invitation in the mail, specially marked for those suffering from Frozen Shoulder.
In the next few weeks, I’m gearing up for five concerts—everything from The Replacements to Jenny Lewis, plus an intimate house concert with Robby Hecht. Am I thrilled? Absolutely! But I’m also strategizing where to stand at each venue to avoid shoulder bumps. And yes, I may or may not have practiced some dance moves in front of the mirror that keep my hands below waist level.
The frozen shoulder is a nuisance, but what truly stings is the realization that one day, I’ll look back on this as a time of carefree enjoyment. “Remember when I didn’t trip over my walker trying to get to the front of the stage? Remember when I could hear the band without a set of hearing aids?” Though if I do need hearing aids, I can at least blame too many concerts for that.
So here’s my message to all you thirty-something music lovers who feel too busy with kids, work, and life: this is why babysitters and microwave dinners were invented! Use them. Enjoy those concerts while you still can. The day will come when a lead singer belts out a lyric about pain, and you’ll feel it all too well.
For more on navigating life and parenthood, check out our other posts on home insemination and tips for boosting fertility, like those from Make A Mom, which are invaluable resources for anyone on this journey. And for further insights into pregnancy and home insemination, visit Facts About Fertility.
In summary, experiencing live music in your 40s is a mix of joy and pain, but the memories and the music are worth every moment.