Don't Come Between A Young Person And The Adult They Are With

   My daughter's birthday is coming up, and one of the things that she asked for was for concert tickets to the Imagine Dragons' concert that was going to be held at the Key Arena in Seattle. She desperately cried, "I don't care if I get anything else! That can be it!" And she said this in my mother's hearing. My mother, being a huge music supporter and having a love of all things concert, got my daughter a ticket, got herself a ticket, and as an added bonus, got me a ticket as well! My mother is awesome.
   But this is not really a post about the concert (which was freaking awesome.) This is a post about some of the behavior that happened after the concert. And this behavior is certainly not limited to rock concerts, so don't think that I am picking on the rock concert crowd. I am certainly not. This happens every time I find myself and my daughter in a huge crowd trying to leave an area.
    You see, after the concert was over, we all left. The crowd was slow, people were talking, having a good time, going over the concert, and all that good stuff. And usually, we might have waited for the crowd to thin a little before attempting to leave, but we had to catch the monorail, which was going to close. So we couldn't wait and joined the crush.
   I need to be clear; the behavior I am talking about is not the slowness of the crowd. I am not talking about the talking, the cheering, the happiness. I am not talking about when the massive group of people all randomly started chanting, "Sea-hawk! Sea-hawk!" at each other. I am not talking about the close confines, the accidental pushing that naturally happens in a crowd, and I am not talking about having my foot stepped on about a billion times. In a large crowd, these things happen (even the Seahawk thing if you are anywhere in the Seattle area). These things will happen; the space invasions are not purposeful, and the rest of it is good-natured fun; I am not talking about that.
   I am talking about the fact that I had my daughter in a death grip, meaning my hand was clenched to her arm, and she had my coat in a death grip with her other hand; we were connected, very obviously together. I am talking about the middle-aged bitch who tried to separate us with her backpack; tried to make a break in the crowd by placing her backpack between us, forcing me to let go of my daughter and her to let go of me so that she could step between us. I am talking about the dumb-ass bitch who was dumbfounded when I kicked her fucking backpack out of the way (she was holding the backpack, but I kicked the damn thing anyway), grabbed my daughter again, and continued on. An action which earned a heartfelt, "Thank you." from another mother who had been separated from her children by this very woman ( thankfully the father was still with them in this case, but I let her ahead of me so she could try to catch up). I am talking about the same dumb-ass moron, who tried this shit again a little further up, and then when I told her to back the fuck off, she dropped back and finally left us alone.
    I've used more cussing than I think I usually do, but this is bad. This isn't behavior limited to rock concerts either; I've dealt with this dumb-ass shit in the middle of Celebration Park, for crying-out-load, so don't be blaming the rock crowd. This wasn't 'young, tatted up hooligans' either, who often display more manners than most at any rate, in my own experience. This woman was a woman my age, a woman in her 30's, and she wasn't tatted or pierced or any of that, so don't go throwing your preconceived notions around. A lot of people do this shit, and they aren't from a select group. This happens way to often, and this is why I am ranting about this on my blog! We were fucking holding hands and she was clutching the back of my jacket. What made this woman think that breaking between a child and her mother was a good fucking idea? Not only is this rude, but I will fight, and violently, to keep this from happening, because in a crowd the size that we were dealing with, losing sight of my daughter could have been dangerous. She could have been grabbed by a creeper, never to be heard from again.
    And yes, she had every right to be there. She was with two adults, her ticket had been paid for, she was not misbehaving, and she loves the band. So to all of you people who think that she shouldn't have been there because she's twelve, she had every single fucking right to be there. She was with mom and grandma, nor was she the only young person in the crowd - not by a long shot. The fucking asshole woman who tried, literally, to break us apart - that woman had no right to the behavior she was displaying. NO RIGHT what-so-ever. She had already broken between one family, and the whole damned crowd was moving slowly- one slow bogged down crush, so you can't blame us for the slow pace. We would have moved faster if we could have politely done so -- we had the monorail to catch, and it was fixing to close.
We would have even let her through, if she had just managed a polite, "Excuse me." We were all moving as fast as we safely could, but I would have let someone ahead of me if they had just asked and not tried to break between us.
   This isn't a reflection on the concert. The concert was awesome, my daughter was elated because Imagine Dragons sang Radioactive, the crowds were pleasant and respectful, except for the one woman. Her actions were all her own, and this didn't ruin the night. I am ranting and raving about this now, because this type of shit pissing me the fuck off, but at the time, I dealt, and let (temporarily) go because I didn't want to mar my daughter's might -- her birthday present from her grandma, and I wanted to insure that she had a great night! A fantastic one! The show was great and energetic and loud and awesome! But please, just please, if you ever see a child obviously attached to an adult, please, please, please do not push between them. 

Monorails, Family Excursions, and Seattle

   When I first came to Washington, there was so much that I missed. I missed the heat of the South, I missed the beaches, and I even missed the way people talked. I love hearing a Southern accent; I feel homesick every time I do. However, Washington has become my home as well. There are many things about this area that I have come to love.
  One of the things that I love is going to concerts and ballets and shows in Seattle. I go with my mother and my daughter, and sometimes my sister and her two kids; it's a family thing. I also feel that for the kids, seeing things like a music concert or a play or ballet is something that is very important. I feel that this expands their creativity, but that's a post for another day.
   We go to these shows as a family, and last night, my mother, myself and my daughter went to the Josh Groban concert. We have been to see him three times, and we always enjoy the show. This time, I did not expect to get to go, because with the saving up for the recent Yellowstone trip, I had a tight budget. Unknown to me, my mother purchased my ticket as a birthday present (BEST PRESENT EVER!!!!) so I did get to go.
   My mom works in Seattle, so she is very familiar with the area, thus we rely on her for the navigation of Seattle's busy streets and many sidewalks. One thing that my mother is very firm on is that in Seattle, you drive as little as possible. So we park at a certain garage and we hoof it over to the monorail.
   My mom and daughter and sister and niece and nephew all love the monorail; the monorail scares the shit out of me. Heights, we've talked about how I don't like heights, and the monorail runs on a single track, high, high above the city. Not only this, but the monorail car tilts as it goes along it's demented, merry-ass way. To this side, to that side, and I am doing my best to lean the opposite way that the monorail is tilting. Ya'know, to balance things out. As was the case last night, when my mom and daughter were watching me with knowing smirks on their amused faces. As the monorail slowed, my daughter says in a mock-soothing voice, "Don't worry mom, it's stowing down because we are almost there."

The stage for the Nutcracker ballet. 

   You see, one time, on the way to a performance of the Nutcracker, I really freaked out. The Nutcracker is a ballet that we have been going to see every year, performed by the Pacific Northwest ballet. We LOVE that ballet, but I don't love the monorail. And that day, the monorail was jumping and banging more than usual. I mean, I usually don't hear the thing rattle so much. I guess because usually, the monorail is pretty full, as a major form of transportation in downtown Seattle, but on this day, we had a pretty empty car. So I heard all the little bangs and rattles all the better. And then we slowed to almost a stop, crawling along, slow as a snail.
   After listening to all those bangs, bams, and rattles, I was positive that somehow we have broken down in the middle of the friggin' air. I was freaked, I mean, how were we going to get down??!! And I asked, "Why are we stopping?!" in a panicked manner to my mom. Which of course meant that I was louder than I thought, so the few people that were on the monorail were looking over at me with amusement in their eyes.
   "We're slowing down because we are fixing to stop," my mom says to me, and she's really trying not to laugh. Credit to her, because I probably would have laughed. Which is why my daughter cracked her little quip last night on the way to the Josh Groban concert; my fear of the monorail is a joke between her and my mother, and they love to remind me about the night that I panicked because we were stopping.
   Not that I mind, and I laugh along with them, because as calm and collected as I try to be, there are times when all that just goes out the window, and when that happens -- it's pretty damn funny. Gotta see the humor in things. And the rewards for using the monorail are extensive, we use that to go the space needle, the Seattle Science Center, the ballet, concerts, and so-on. What's a little irrational fear compared to those rewards?