“I HAD A MARVELOUS TIME RUINING EVERYTHING”- Ticketmaster, 2022
I decided to surprise my daughter with Eras Tour tickets for her 9th birthday. This set off a chain of events that I can only describe as magically stressful, bedazzlingly brutal, and I guess you could say, a little Bejeweled. (I swear, I’ll try to keep the Taylor Swift puns to a minimum.) As a diehard Swiftian since 2004, I consider myself an original fan, the likes of which were crying to Teardrops on My Guitar and Picture to Burn, back when we were all still singing that one line (you know the one.) As T-Swift put out her albums, I grew up with her and hyper-fixated on many of the songs, playing them over and over. My daughter was born the same year 1989 came out, and you best believe it played her to sleep in the car many times. She doesn’t know it, but she was born into Swiftiehood. When Reputation was released, I was 27, newly separated, and the album just fit. It was (and still is) my favorite album- my ultimate jam. I play it constantly.
My daughter has subconsciously consumed all of Swift’s songs since birth, so it made sense that Taylor Swift would be the first artist she followed promptly after downloading Spotify. It made sense that we would spend breakfast time shaking it off, lightening the mood before a hectic school day. It made sense that we would annoy everyone in the house by constantly playing All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version) (The Only Version Played in This House Version.) And so, when Era’s Tour announced, it made sense to me that I would take her, and we would have a marvelous time.
There was only problem with that—it had been five years since Swift toured. Her fandom had quadrupled since then, completely boomed. Like, big big. After the re-release of her albums and RED, Taylor sky-rocketed to even more fame. If that was possible. I thought I could just log online and get some tickets, no ma’am. That was a pipe dream, an absolute figment of imagination. Ticketmaster was an absolute nightmare. Swifties were battling it out, virtually fighting and clawing tooth and nail for the best seats. On top of that were the scalpers, which ruined everything. I was waitlisted, which meant I got a total of zero tickets. Luckily, I hadn’t told my daughter my plan, so the only one dissatisfied was myself. My big dream of having this core memory together was now a crumbled up piece of pa- (sorry. That one was too far. I’m drawing the line.) I told myself something would happen closer to the time of the concert, maybe I’d get lucky and find someone who couldn’t go and snatch theirs up.
Then, it happened. A few weeks ago, I got a text. That waitlist had paid off, because a handful (literally a literal handful of tickets) were available. They were nosebleeds, but they were cheap. Only $99 per ticket (so about $7,999 after fees.) I put them in my cart as fast as I could, texted my boyfriend a photo of the tickets: Should I? Shouldn’t I?............. He didn’t reply. The horror! The fear in my eyes!? It was so unexpected; I had no time to plan. I definitely had no time to wait for his text back.
Without thinking, I said screw it, we’re going. I hit check out. . .
The tickets were already gone. NO! NOT AGAIN! My fingers trembled to find the back button, scrambling for overpriced terrible seats, begging for crumbs of Taylor Swift’s air. I found another date, put the tickets in my cart, and sprinted to check out.
Ten minutes later, I was doubled over, breathing heavy like I had run a marathon, like I’d won a prize for mom of the year. I had done it. I had secured the tickets. A sigh of relief came over me. Then, I got another text.
HALF THE BATTLE
“Don't forget your parking pass!” SeatGeek kindly reminded me. Great! No problem, I thought. (You can see how my optimism is just so. . . hopeful. Like, I really love that for her.) I went to the app and opened the parking passes. Folks, let me tell you. My jaw dropped. Why is parking more expensive than the tickets? They were two and three hundred dollars after fees! Like what the actual hell. You mean I must pay $17 for nachos AND walk a mile to get there? Fine, I’ll do it.
And we did. I ended up finding a parking ticket about a mile away after taking a few minutes to research, but it still cost me sixty dollars. SIXTY BUCKS! TO WALK A MILE TO THE VENUE! Ya’ll. I know I’m old, but dang! I didn’t realize getting the tickets was only half the battle.
We surprised her with the tickets during a spontaneous photoshoot.
She was ecstatic. I cried, obviously. When the day came, we dressed in style, (I dressed for Reputation, even more obviously.) We made the three-hour drive, surviving a massive tornado thunderstorm on the way, miraculously caught the shuttle exactly on time, and arrived at the stadium. After grabbing insanely overpriced snacks and wading through an ocean of pink, glitter, sparkle, and everything else you could imagine, we finally found our seats and anxiously awaited the moment we had come for. We watch the openers, and fifteen minutes before Taylor is set to begin, you guessed it—she's gotta pee.
You’ve got to be joking, is what I wanted to tell her. But she’s nine, and I can’t say that to my daughter because it would traumatize her, so I tell her, anxiously looking around, knowing we would have to push through a whole row of people to get out, “Okay, let’s make it quick.” Again, such optimism. Everybody else and their dog had to pee too, I guess. There were so many women in the venue, there were lines of them extending all down the corridors, out of the men's and women’s restrooms. I snuck behind a line of ladies waiting for the family restroom, praying that we would make it in time to see Taylor's entrance. Some of the women behind us got rowdy, started banging on the restroom door to hurry the line. It was very serious; I took off my belt in advance, so I didn’t get mobbed for not peeing fast enough.
We made it back to our seats just as the timer reached one second left. Just in time to hear the entire stadium erupt with the loudest cheers and blood curdling screams I’ve ever heard, including ours. We were almost knocked over; everyone just went crazy as her voice filled the massive arena. “It’s been a long time coming,” her music echoed.
A BREATH OF FRESH ERA
Not many women can take my breath away, but Taylor Swift has an absolute bewitching style of performance. Not only did her production feel like a dream, but she also carried an energy that was palpable, even through the jumbotron I was watching her on. Admittedly, I worried that Taylor would be exhausted after so many nights on tour, I can only imagine how much something like this takes out of someone, and I expected her to be. . . tired. I mean, I’m tired just hearing about all the things she does, by just watching her. The woman is a force of freaking nature. Superhuman. If she was tired, she showed absolutely no sign of it. In fact, quite the opposite, she kept goading the crowd, toying with them, playing with them like cat and mouse. It was intoxicating watching her move, her facial expressions, her hand placements, no matter where she went on the stage, she commanded it with a state of grace. The crowd was feeding off her energy, and she was feeding off theirs. There was a sort of symbiotic relationship between the two, both instrumental in combining to make this conjugation, this collision of force.
Some of my favorite moments were seeing her perform Don’t Blame Me, Look What You Made Me Do, and the giant snake slithering down the stage. The fire display was unexpected and very freaking cool, my daughter’s favorite moment. She lit up, literally. “Oh my god!” she screamed. “I can feel it on my face!” The stage seemed completely under her control, giant holes opening in the floor to reveal pianos, dancers, even a whole saltbox house on stilts. The screen behind her shifted constantly like a film, showing us seasons and eras transitioning into one another and adding scenes to performances. It was truly the future meeting the present of performance art. I’d never seen anything like it, and I’ve been to lots of shows, big festivals, and concerts. This show was in a category all of its own.
Perhaps the coolest part was seeing the diverse group of band members, dancers, and singers. I saw women and men of sizes and demographics. It was refreshing to see such a varied group of so many talented people. The dancers were especially astounding! You can tell she really has a connection with each person she works with, they all had such chemistry.
THE BEST DAY
One thing is for sure, beside the fact that I am now the favorite parent, Taylor Swift has taken the world by storm and left no time for the dust to settle. At only 33 years old, or 147 in pop-star years as she says, she’s broken more records than I care to look up, I just know it’s a ridiculous number. Being able to see her perform while making memories with my daughter was a dream come true. She’s still wearing her shirt and talking about it this morning. Taylor Swift, we had the best day with you.
-Kelly
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