The Sacrifice That Wasn't

Months and months ago I logged on to Ticketmaster and shelled out a couple hundred dollars for something I thought was ridiculous, but in the effort to differentiate from my own mother, necessary.

The debit plastic was burning hot for Miley Cyrus tickets.

It was so far off in the future, I figured it was pointless to think too hard on it, besides, the tour itself didn't start until 2 nights before we attended. There would be no preparing, or reading other's blogs to prepare myself for the eardrum blistering amount of screaming I was sure to encounter. So it was just the Sunday before last that I glanced at the calendar and realized, "Crap. That's next week."

A small gaggle of girlfriends were also planning on attending with their daughters, so we made plans to travel down together, softening the blow with a rather large beer and dinner on the way. Since we'd all bought our tickets separately, (thanks to a 'paperless' process in which each person could only purchase 4, then only get email confirmation, then show up with nothing in hand but a long-ago purchase number and the credit card itself - truly could write an entry on this experience, so I will digress...) none of us were sitting together. Quite a bummer for both me and Maddie - I spent a lot of time sarcastically mimicking, didn't know the words but for a couple choruses and she knew I could never match her enthusiasm, who was she going to dance with and high-5? Certainly not her lame-ass Mom who kept referring to her as Hannah Montana, and didn't I know that she was performing as MILEY CYRUS? Evidently, they are no longer the same... Digress, again. So, it was just the two of us, in section 16-A.

So, as the days progressed, I took on the air of a true martyr. There was much sighing and implied selflessness as I made a point to loudly check the levels in my Advil bottles and tell everyone within earshot to remind me to put them in my purse for Wednesday night. I began referencing my trip to Preteen Hell as I wondered how I could possibly prepare my ears for the screeching onslaught from the crowd of tarted-up, pony-tailed and bedazzled elementary school kids whose screams would no doubt block out the whiny, countrified voice of Miley Hannah Ray Cyrus Montana that I just paid to hear - wait, was that a positive or a negative?

Then it was t-minus 24-hours and counting. Oh, was I pious! I was Jesus on the cross! The things I would do for my girl. I hope she appreciates this. The sacrifice! Hand to God, when I signed her out of school, I put 'Miley Cyrus' as the reason for her absence. "Are you serious?" The secretary asked and told me that this would stay in Maddie's record permanently, which I saw as a tremendous benefit - a reminder of what her Mother would do in her name! And in a few years, when there is no one (in her opinion) less cool than me, I can refer to state records to show that, yes, for one brief shining evening, I, Mom, did something cool.

You get the gist of how put-out I was by this whole deal, right?

Maddie made a sign, "Rock the Dome." (Puh-leese! I've seen Springsteen rock this dome... Ain't no way this 16-year-old pop tart was going to do anything close to rocking...) She put on an outfit that she saved her allowance to buy from the Miley Cyrus clothing line at Walmart. Maddie came out with sunglasses on her head, braids in her hair, a t-shirt with a heart and a drum set on it with matching leggings, under a denim skirt. Plaid, high top Converse finished off the look.

"Whaddaya think? Oh, wait!" And she returned with her sign, "Whaddaya think?"

What I thought was she looked adorable, excited and I couldn't wait to see her reaction when Miley walked out on stage. What I did, was roll my eyes and tell her to get in the car. I was put out, remember?

Now, during the day, I had taken the time to look up the reviews of Monday night's concert in Portland, again, the first of the tour. Expecting cute and bubble-gummy, instead I read that Hannah was growing up both artistically and physically. One reviewer wrote, "Miley's got boobs and she's anxious to show them." Great.

As we neared the Tacoma Dome, Maddie and the other girls' excitement was palpable. The smiles that broke out when we first saw the top of the dome from the road were probably worth $200 themselves. Then we got inside.

My kids, like many, many other American kids, have a sense of entitlement that has at times made me want to ship them to a 3rd world country for a month. I did not get one iota of this surrounding this concert, and haven't in the days since the concert, either. Walking into the stadium, Maddie was blissfully happy and grateful, to the point that her admiration of an empty stage made me tear up a little. That was when the hugs began. I got more hugs in that 3-hour stretch than I have in a year (and my kids are pretty affectionate).

The opening act was, well, it was a pile of crap. Turns out it was Miley's older brother's band who were all just fine skating by on nepotism and very little pride (or practice...). It was to say the least, a buzzkill, where even a 6-year-old would be justified listening to them and saying, "What the f?#@ is this?"

But then the concert started. This girl burst, literally, onto the stage from a block of "ice" amidst smoke, video screens, dancers, pyrotechnics and took over the auditorium. I admit to emitting a rather exuberant, "Woo!" But it'll never be proven as it was lost in the high-pitched cacophony that had exploded around me - notably from Maddie, screaming so loudly, I was a little afraid she was going to stroke out right there next to me.

The high-intensity show was so thoroughly entertaining, I found myself fake-singing along (you know, catch a few lines of a chorus, or anticipating the end of a line) with my daughter who danced and sang and danced and sang, and hugged. I suddenly felt like the loser, not for being at the concert, but for not knowing these songs everyone else was belting out at the top of their lungs. Dang, I want to know the words to Party In The USA, that looked like fun!

When the middle set slowed it down a bit with some more ballad-y songs, I found myself sitting watching this child, really, who is a money making machine. I wondered where she'll be in a few years when the Disney shine wears off. Will her positive message still be in the forefront of her music when Maddie is getting to that awkward age and could use the encouraging messages of strength from someone she idolizes? Where will this star end up? And my thoughts turned to Maddie...

I listened to Miley singing about love, finding a love, losing a love, learning who you are through the process, I got sad and excited at the same time thinking of my daughter only a handful of years away from that roller coaster. I remember how fun and utterly heartbreaking those teen years were - and I married my H.S. sweetheart, it could've been a lot worse! (I know, apparently, I get introspective when I'm at a mega-concert and don't know the music).

Anyway...

I sat there watching my daughter singing her little heart out, alternately dancing and hugging me when the mood hit, not really feeling that far away from the 16 year-old I had been, but at the same time looking forward to the young woman Maddie is quickly becoming.

I felt lucky to be there jumbled up in the spectacle of this powerhouse performer, glowsticks, clapping hands, Halloween wigs and sequins, my daughter uninhibited, looking at me with truly grateful eyes and telling me, "When I have a daughter, I'm going to take her to a Miley Cyrus concert!"

On the elliptical at the gym today, I switched my iPod on shuffle and my headphones belted out a Miley song - The Climb.

"I may not know it, but these are the moments I'm gonna remember most..." Sing it, sister.