Wasted Youth

I was bouncing around in an airport shuttle, speculating on how much kidney damage I was incurring thanks to the nonexistent suspension, when, as usual, I struck up a conversation with another suffering passenger.

"Coming home?" I asked.

"No. I'm meeting a friend here for a concert," he replied, turning in his seat to face me.

I noted his long(ish) hair and relatively youthful but matured appearance and pegged him for a grunge fan, maybe Pearl Jam. Were they still touring?

"Who are you going to see?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"It's an early nineties, band, you probably wouldn't know them, " he replied. What was I suddenly - my Dad? What did this guy think were my influences? Cheap Trick? Led Zep? Steppenwolf? Chuck Berry? Dear God, Benny Goodman?

"Try me," I prompted, scowling a bit, but slightly encouraged by the early nineties reference. Truth be told, that was the last musical period I really grokked, or thought I did anyway.

"Faith No More" he said. "My friend's coming from Albuquerque and I'm coming from Chicago. We're meeting here for three days of shows."

'Nice', I thought. But I didn't have much to say about FNM. Not my cup of tea in the 90's, and so I never followed their music (outside of whatever passed before my glazed eyes in music videos).

"Glad to hear they are still together" I offered, lamely. "I hear there's a demand for 90's nostalgia now."

"Oh yeah? I haven't heard that. My friend and I are, well, sort of musicians too, and we are big fans of the band."

I expect that last comment was an attempt to broaden the discussion, perhaps bring in his musical accomplishments. If so, it missed its mark and ricocheted off me like the van off the rumpled tarmac. I was out of any usable musical ammo. I was shooting blanks. I guess I didn't 'grok' those times enough.

Or maybe I was already too old circa 1991 for it all to properly sink in. You know the saying: "youth is wasted on the young". I guess it's relative, since clearly youth can also be wasted on the not-so-young.

I moved the conversation to other topics, gems like "does San Francisco remind you of Chicago?"

I hope the shows were all he and his friend, expected. I hope the shows made up for that ride in the van with me. I hope he and his friend recaptured a bit of their wasted youth ...

I did.