Nostalgic For Now #1
This week, we reflect on nostalgia and how we see the past.
Is there a time in your life you find frequent nostalgia for? Before we dig into it, I want to jump ahead of myself and say that I agree with Teylor Smirl (Still Buffering) when they said, “Nostalgia is a negative emotion.” Sure, it’s a bold claim. But I do think it’s better to operate in the now than to wish for yesterday.
That being said, let nostalgia take us to 2009, possibly the most tumultuous year of my entire life. On the cusp of 21, I spent what felt like a lifetime of courage and foolishness to run off to Minneapolis for art school. When I say courage and foolishness, I mean it. I enrolled into the Minneapolis College of Art and Design (MCAD) near the end of my 2008 fall semester, and I filled out my dropout paperwork at my previous school, Dakota State University (DSU), before I knew if I was accepted at MCAD. It was nuts and dangerous and my 34 year old mind, now, says it was incredibly foolish. But I got in!
The part I want to zoom in on is that tiny bit of time in December 2008 through the end of January 2009. Aside from being a helluva risk taker, in college I was a concert chaser. If Streetlight Manifesto was within 4 hours of Sioux Falls, my friends and I went. During this whirlwind era, nothing was certain other than the music. To make things more interesting — or perhaps intrepid — my crew of pals and I decided to do a tandem trip. Night one: Streetlight Manifesto and Reel Big Fish in Omaha. Night two: Tip the Van, Streetlight Manifesto, and Reel Big Fish in Minneapolis. It was going to be the concert experience of our lifetimes, and we knew it.
We were broke. I had a new, expensive apartment in the cities, and I was going to drive for these shows. Our little gang pooled cash and food and we took off with printed out maps. The first night was easy. The show was at the Sokol, in Omaha, and we knew the venue well. We’d fallen in love with bands like Fear Nuttin’ and the AKAs there, so there were no problems. Knowing we’d need to save our energy, we skipped Reel Big Fish. (I needed to be in my 30s to really get them, so we had no gripes there)
Winter in the Midwest can be filled with the unexpected but traveling was slick. We made it back to Sioux Falls before 3am and slept a bit before refueling and heading out to Minneapolis. Day two was a bit harder. Cash was dwindling, and we weren’t going to make it back home after this show. Luckily, I had my expensive Minneapolis apartment we could crash in. Sure, I had no furniture, but we had sleeping bags. How bad could a hardwood floor be?
As per usual, we beat the bands to their own venue. The wind ripped at us as we waited outside First Ave in downtown Minneapolis. We made a new friend and huddled in the entryway to a nearby bank. First in line. Always first. Two shows in a row were about to commence. Victory was coming.
First Ave checked our coats and we got to the front of the pit. You have to be in front if you want to experience the bands to their fullest. When Tip the Van came on stage, they blew my hair back. Nicole, on vocals, belted her heart out like this was the last show on earth. They opened for Streetlight in a way few had ever done. Streetlight blasted solid and lit the night on fire. Aaron Barrett and Reel Big Fish polished it off with their famous sing-alongs, and the night felt like a dream.
Throughout the show, my crew and I were struggling with our plans. Before we even started making a line outside, we met up with the members of Streetlight Manifesto. They were used to seeing us, but were surprised to see us two nights in a row. They casually asked if we’d see them the next night in Milwaukee. The question was our major distraction as the bands played. We knew if we pooled our last few bucks, we could get to Milwaukee. But how would we get back? Furthermore, for me especially, I wasn’t going to be sticking around Sioux Falls much after the show. I was coming back here, to my Minneapolis apartment. We needed to save cash. We were broke, and life was about to change for us all.
That’s what we knew that night in the pit of First Ave: Life was changing.
This moment solidified a corner of my music taste. Although I haven’t seen Streetlight, or Reel Big Fish, in years, I still listen to them. Despite Tip the Van parting ways, Nicole and her friends put on a performance that still plays in my mind when I play their first album. I can’t imagine living in a state of being where I wasn’t sure if we had the dough for gas or food anymore. Yes, money is tight these days, but I don’t know how I lived at zero so eventfully. It’s hard to think about how rough 2009 was going to be when it opened on something that’s still happening when I meditate on it. I don’t want those days back. But a part of me would do anything to be in that pit one more time.