Every time I go to a live music performance, I struggle with the same question: Should I? or Shouldn’t I… buy a T-shirt?
It’s kind of ridiculous dilemma given I may have only bought one concert shirt in my life that I can recall, and that was in the 1970s when I vaguely remember an orange T-shirt from either a Chicago concert at the Spectrum or the Stanley Cup parade on Broad Street. At last year’s Dave Matthews Band concert, with the biggest selection of T-shirts I had ever seen at a show and a line of fans to match, I decided I was done wasting time thinking about the T-shirt, picking one out, deciding I probably wouldn’t wear it anyway and then leaving without one.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to see the singer-songwriter duo
Indigo Girls - Emily Saliers and Amy Ray - for who knows how many times, with my girlfriend who had never seen them
before. David turned me on to this band some 25 years ago, and I’ve loved them
ever since. Their voices are strong and mighty, their harmonizing so pleasing
to my soul and their lyrics about life, love and the state of the world powerful
and beautifully expressed. For me, they have it all, and I listen to them constantly
in my car. In the days leading up to the concert, my friend played thier music to familiarize herself, and her son mentioned they were the lesbian band
of the 80s when she said she was going, which was hardly news today but
surely was back then.
Before we got to the concert, I reminded myself NO SHIRT! I felt liberated to be among fans enjoying the anticipation of the show without getting caught up in the marketing hype. However, once we found our seats, my friend announced that SHE wanted to buy a T-shirt!
I laughed to myself
thinking thank goodness I am over this, but of course I walked around with her
from kiosk to kiosk to find the right shirt for her. We found a selection
of 3 shirts she could choose from: 1 – black with a cobalt blue design, 2 – eggshell colored with
sketches that I couldn’t decipher without my glasses and 3 – a gray tank-style
shirt with Emily and Amy’s faces which would fall where her breasts would be,
so I vetoed that.
As we stood in line talking about which of the shirts she liked most, I
found myself wavering, once again…Should I get one too? It would be so fun to
get the same shirt…I've always been drawn to the whole "twins" concept. And then I did
it. I succumbed to the urge…and walked away from the kiosk with the black and
blue one in hand, just like my girlfriend.
I don’t know why this concert was different - why I finally bought a T-shirt - but, for some reason, I didn’t overthink it; I just went with
my gut: I want to bring this T-shirt home.
When Emily and Amy took their places on stage, I sat back in
anticipation, grateful for the opportunity to soak in the sheer delight of
hearing their voices in person once again.
And then something unexpected happened. When Emily started to sing that first song, "Power of Two, her voice sounded unsteady. Off. At first, I thought she needed a better warm up, or to clear her throat, or maybe take a deep breath if she struggles with stage fright. But with every second, I knew something was not right.
I did what I usually do: I
texted David about it. And he did what he usually does: he googled it and saw
she was recently diagnosed with 2 incurable movement disorders that impact her voice: cervical dystonia, which causes involuntary neck shaking, and an essential tremor, which prevents structural vocal control.
After the initial shock, I listened to the music with different ears and a different heart - not with the joy of the past, but with more compelling emotions: sadness for Emily to have lost her ability to rely on the voice
that was once so robust and likely tied to her identity, amazement at her bravery in continuing to perform despite enormous challenges and gratitude for all those glorious concerts I got to see. .
I was certain there was a reason fate drove me to buy the
shirt, and when I read David’s text, I new why. And I've already worn it twice.
