The son of a friend of mine is traveling around the country as the videographer for an up-and-coming rock band (one of the many career paths for which a UHS diploma prepares you). He invited his mother and older brother to attend the band's hometown show at the TLA on South Street in Philadelphia. They accepted -- the VIP seats and limo sealed the deal.
My friend, who last attended a rock concert back in the days of Peter Frampton, gave a hilarious account of the evening. She said even with earplugs, the noise was deafening. She was baffled by the appeal of the "mosh pit" in front of the stage, where frenzied youths were hurling themselves about and banging their heads together. Part of the fun, apparently, is diving into the arms of your peers, who then (you hope) pass you overhead, conveyor-belt style, toward the edge of the pit.
She reports that two bouncers were assigned to stand at the end of this conveyor belt, reaching up and removing the overhead fans and setting them back on terra firma.
Concerts are not what they used to be, she and her older son concluded.
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