As I navigate through my 40s, I find myself compelled to deliver a message to those younger than me—particularly the Generation X crowd. Born in the early years of this demographic wave, I now inhabit a phase of life where attending concerts has become a bit more complicated.
It all began about six years ago when a persistent ache in my right foot spiraled into a severe case of plantar fasciitis. There was no specific injury that triggered it; I simply woke up one day to discover my body had decided to protest. Chic heeled boots and stylish flats were retired in favor of heel stretches and custom inserts—goodbye fashion, hello orthopedic clogs. I reminded myself that if the music was captivating, no one would be focused on my footwear. So I strapped on those black orthopedic shoes and returned to the music scene. I could still enjoy performances, whether it was a lively Black Keys concert or a cozy Book of Love reunion tour. I thought my foot troubles were the worst of it.
But my aging body had other plans. A minor shoulder strain from tossing a pinecone for my dog turned into a debilitating case of capsulitis, or Frozen Shoulder syndrome. This isn’t the whimsical Disney version but rather one that limits my range of motion significantly. I can’t lift my right arm above my ribcage or even reach behind to zip up a dress. Most frustratingly, I can’t raise my hands in the air during a concert without feeling a sharp pain.
A recent dance party incident while jamming to “Blister in the Sun” took an unfortunate turn when my shoulder protested, forcing me to take a knee. My shoulder specialist noted, “This is the most common issue I see in women between 40 and 60.” My hairdresser added, “I had it too; menopause is next.” I half-expect an AARP invitation to arrive soon, humorously addressed for those with Frozen Shoulder.
Over the next six weeks, I have five concerts lined up, featuring artists from The Replacements to Jenny Lewis, and even a local folk singer named Robby Hecht. Excitement aside, I’m already plotting my positioning at each venue to avoid shoulder bumps. I may have even practiced some dance moves that keep my hands at waist level while tidying up the kitchen.
The frozen shoulder is a challenge, but what pains me more is the thought that someday I’ll reminisce about these times as the “good old days.” Just imagine looking back and saying, “Remember when I could get to the front of the stage without tripping over my walker?” or “Remember when I could enjoy a concert without my hearing aids?” (If I do end up needing those, it might be a fair trade-off for all those late-night gigs.)
So, to all you thirty-something music lovers who think you’re too busy with kids, work, and life’s demands—this is why babysitters, takeout meals, and microwave dinners were invented. Embrace them! Relish the chance to attend live shows while you still can. There will come a time when you’re at a concert, and the lead singer belts out a lyric about pain, and you’ll nod in understanding.
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In summary, while the joys of live music may come with physical challenges in your 40s, the memories and experiences are worth every ache. Embrace the present, cherish the moments, and don’t let anything hold you back from enjoying the music you love.
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