Nicole Kidman utters this iconic line in a now-cult promotional video for the AMC Theatres movie house chain, but it came especially strongly to mind upon my recent forays experiencing live music after two years into an ongoing pandemic.
A few weeks ago, I went to a post-hardcore show at a club downtown, where my boyfriend took me to meet some members of the band and crew he’d known from years before as they played a farewell tour finally realized after a Covid-necessitated hiatus. Throughout the night, I felt so terribly old. I guess this is standard for women on the verge of turning 35. After all, ten years ago I wept into my pillow as the clock struck midnight on the eve of my 25th, sure I’d wasted every ounce of my youth’s potential. By 30 I felt I could relax a bit, and savored the occasion to celebrate with friends at Magic Mike Live in Las Vegas. But now, the decade’s pendulum has swung back towards me and I feel this impending birthday with no small amount of agita.
Walking through downtown to get to the venue, I remembered so many nights I spent in that neighborhood in my twenties, exploring hot restaurants and classic bars and nightclubs, making memories with old friends and mistakes with strangers. Inured, to some extent, from the fear of danger present to all women strolling the streets at night, by a sense of immortality and more…
