To All The Tours I’ve Loved Before…

The year is 2020 and fans all over the world are mourning the loss of Summer tours. With it, we’re collectively mourning a loss of normalcy, a loss of what-could-have-been, a potential loss of other humans in our lives. It’s a season without hugs from our concert-going friends, scream singing along with our favorite band, and so. much. more.

To the arenas and amphitheaters…

I’ll miss the blast of a/c that hits you once the doors open after I’ve waited so long in the summer heat. I’ll miss the coolness of the air and rising excitement that fills my lungs as the day turns to evening, signaling the nearness of the main act about to perform. I’ll miss griping about how much I hate differing safety measures and which venue allows what. I’ll miss figuring out what purse will go with my outfit and still be allowed inside. I’ll miss being told not to run to get a spot in general admission and I’ll miss catching the hired security actually getting into the concert despite trying not to. I’ll miss watching your seats slowly fill up as my heart fills that so many fans share at least one thing in common – a love for a band.

To my fellow concert goers…

I’ll miss strangers who would have sat down beside me and my friends this summer and turned into our friend too. I’ll miss singing along with you. I’ll miss the conversations before the show. I’ll miss moving out of the way so you can see your fave (and vice versa). I’ll miss asking you where you got your dress, your shoes, etc. I’ll miss recognizing you from social media. I’ll miss getting annoyed at you for dropping your drink on my shoes (let’s be real). Most of all, I’ll miss turning around to watch every single one of us singing along to the song we all know by heart and my emotions getting the best of me in those moments. I’ll miss crying with you. I’ll miss people who know exactly what I’m talking about and feel exactly what I’m feeling (except during maybe one or two songs).

To the people that make things happen…

You know who you are. The unsung heroes. The crew. I will miss being in awe of the hustle to make sure fans are happy, to protect the band, to do your job in the best way that you know how, even though tour is grueling and time zones are tough. I’ll miss reading tweets of appreciation for the small things after a concert where you made a fan’s day. I’ll miss the photographs from every venue around the world and the familiar faces when you go to more than one tour stop.

To the bands…

As Dorothy said as she returned to Kansas, I’ll miss you most of all. I’ll miss the way I feel when the lights go down and your faces come on the screen. I’ll miss the overwhelming emotions as you appear in person and the uninhibited screams that follow, as hard as we all try to contain ourselves. I’ll miss screaming about how every song is my favorite song. I’ll miss wondering if you saw all of my friends and I as we screamed your name. I’ll miss every word you sing sounding better live than it ever did on the album. I’ll miss hating that you sang one song over another (everyone reading this just thought of two specific songs, I’m sure…). I’ll miss the unequivocal joy that your music brings and the freedom that exists during the 90 minutes you all exert yourselves to elicit pure happiness from everyone in the room. I’ll miss feeling so grateful for every moment. I’ll miss missing it after it’s all over.

To All The Tours I’ve Loved Before…

I’m so sorry that I didn’t appreciate you more in the moment. I’m sorry for all the times that I didn’t let myself truly experience every minute to the fullest because I was too worried about my view, the people around me, getting the perfect selfie, needing another drink. I’m sorry for all the moments I was too worried about what others would think if I danced the way I wanted to or cried when a song hit me in the feels. I’m sorry that I ever took any of it for granted. Never again.

To All The Tours I’ve Yet To Love…

My God, I can’t wait to inhale the concert experience again. Every bit of heat from the pyro, every stench from the body odor in general admission, every drop of alcohol spilled on the floor because someone danced too hard. I can’t wait for a moment of eye contact to mean so much and laughing about things that no one else would understand. I can’t wait to take on shoe off mid-show because my feet are killing me or throwing my hair up in a ponytail because who cares what anything looks like anymore when it’s almost over?! I can’t wait to buy more tickets to more shows on the car ride / plane trip home. I can’t wait to return to my normal.

And it will come… because if there is anything that I’ve learned as a fan, it’s that your favorite band and all of the people and places and things that come with it… hardly ever let you down. This is simply a pause. This is a time to be grateful for alllll of the experiences we’ve had and embrace the growing anticipation of things to come. This is a time to make the best of what we have until we can have better. This is a time to connect in new ways and love the old ways a little harder. This is a reminder that nothing is guaranteed in life, but the universe always has a plan. Trust it, believe in it, and know that maybe…the best is yet to come.

This is an intermission and when the time is right and the lights are low…I can’t wait to sing along with a whole arena full of people that get it.

Until then, from venues to fan-mily to band members and beyond, stay safe, spread love, and see you when the time is right.

XOXO — A Fan



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