My sister wrote me something the other day and I’m going to share it here.
I saw Morrissey play at DAR Constitution Hall tonight and I had this welling of emotion when he came out. Anyway, it’s hard to put it into words without it sounding a bit silly, but thanks for taking me to see him in 1992 in that tiny place in C-ville. I was 15 and you were 22! I am forever in your debt.
Dag, that was 12 years ago, in Charlottesville Virginia. I was so proud to be able to take my sister. and the show was wonderful. At the time I was working as a Respiratory Therapist for the University of Virginia Medical Center. My those were heady times for me. My first apartment. Alone in a new town. It was a great treat to see Morrissey at the peak of his game as a solo artist.
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I wish I could’ve seen Morrissey in 1992. Or better yet, the Smiths in 1987. Anyways, I went to the Inland Invasion Festival last weekend and Morrissey was supposed to headline. An announcement was made at 5pm (after 4 or 5 artists had already performed) that Morrissey is sick at home. Ouch! He’s supposedly going to make it up to everyone (who saved their ticket) by playing a free show at a later date…Oh, the drama!
My sister is 10 years younger than I am and I’m constantly trying to peel her off of pop punk and get her to listen to good music.
More and more frequently it’s been working. I’ll walk into her room and she’ll be listening to something I recommended and she’s got this look like ‘yeah, I’ve liked these guys all along.’
Reminds me of an editorial I read in Fahrenheit once. It’s funny – getting younger siblings to listen to good music has got to be one of the top five responsibilities of older brothers.