Times to stop and reflect. Or contemplate your navel. Either one.

 So Thursday evening I went to see the Krishna Das & Deva Premal & Miten Tour at the Crystal Ballroom. This concert, like any other, would not be to everyone's taste, but I really enjoyed it overall. There are two videos below if you want to know what sort of music it was. I also was prompted to think about several things that made me consider the ways in which I have changed over the years.


Let me first set the scene: If you haven't been to the Crystal Ballroom it's a huge, well, ballroom. High, high ceilings, ornate walls, and a wood floor with springs underneath, which apparently has something to do with ballroom dancing and can be quite unsettling to walk on if you're not prepared for it. Now imagine this room filled with hippies. Not the kind you're thinking.......in fact I'm pleased to report that I did not catch a single whiff of patchouli the entire night. Seriously, if I never smell patchouli or Nag Champa again as long as I live........


Anyhoo, these were not, for the most part, the young hippies you'd imagine in their patchwork skirts and tinkly ankle bracelets and beaded dreadlocks. This was real hippies, the folks who are now grandparents and CEOs and librarians and college professors. Rotund, round-cheeked ladies in their ankle-length dresses and batiked shawls, gray-haired guys with respectable sweaters and pressed slacks. This was the first time I've experienced what I would consider a hippie festival that was attended almost entirely by grownups. All my past festivals have been drum circles and unleashed dogs and naked kids running amok, Guati-pants and jester hats, dudes trying to trade handmade pipes for a couple hits of acid, insidious clouds of The Official Fragrance of Peace chasing you like some soul-sucking banshee. And seriously, who made the rule that patchouli is a required part of the uniform? Kids, there are a lot of scents in the world, and many of them are quite lovely. You really should try a couple of them some time. Unless you're afraid to be different.........you know, as you rebel against conformity.

So there I was, experiencing grooviness as an adult for the first time. It was pretty nice, I have to say. It was also a bit.......unsettling is not the right word, but I had to make some mental adjustments. There were younger folks wandering around, many of them obviously part of the same social group because there was the requisite hugging that hippies do. It's like a really friendly handshake, but groovier. I'll explain when you're older. So I found myself thinking that 25 to 30 years ago I would have been walking around hugging too, I would know who had the best buds, I would know about whatever get-together was happening afterward at so-and-so's house. But there I was, a 37-year-old who was not part of this clan. I don't think I look mainstream, but I look different enough that those young hippie eyes slid right over me. There was no trace of the recognition I would have once seen, that glimmer of "Hey, you're one of us". I'm not one of them anymore. And I think I'm just fine with that.

And then I was led to think about my ex-husband. One of the first things we bonded over was our mutual love of music that was, at least at the time, quite esoteric. My favorite at the time was Huun-Huur-Tu. One of his favoriteswas Krishna Das. There are times, now and then, when I am in a certain place or doing something and I really wish he was there to share it with me. So far I haven't found another man to fill that place in my life, but I still hope. :)

And maybe the people who know me well will understand what I'm going to say next: I went all by myself. Yep, just me. I never go to events by myself. Offhand, I really can't remember the last time I went to a concert or something large like this without someone with me; a friend, a boyfriend. It's hard to explain, but maybe some of you will understand. I'm timid, I always have been. I'm self-conscious, insecure. I feel totally exposed and awkward in a large group of people who don't know me. But this time I did it, and I enjoyed it. Sure, it would have been nice to have a special someone sitting next to me. Instead it was an old Jewish guy who was totally grooving out to the chants, which was pretty sweet.

So that was my night. I'm glad I went. It feels good to feel good.