I went to a Phish concert this weekend. I'm not the biggest Phish fan, but I don't have feelings of antipathy towards them that a lot of people seem to. I just thought of them as a band that I was into in high school and college but then fell away from, especially after a concert I attended sometime in college that was fine, but underwhelming. But my dear old friend Tracy, who is a diehard fan, was going to be in town and said tentatively, wistfully, that it would be great if I could join her at one of the shows this weekend, and I said sure, why not? It would be at Northerly Island, on Chicago's lakefront, so it'd probably be a pretty night; I'd be seeing one of my sweetest friends who would be an excellent ambassodor for the scene, and at the very least, it would make for some blog fodder. I remember vividly from the one other Phish show I saw, at Alpine Valley in Wisconsin, seeing a girl in a backless apron dress squat and take a shit right next to the bathrooms. So I was anticipating seeing these types of people at the show and having related stories to tell.

However, this time around, I saw no public defecation. I saw nobody who looked to be a complete and utter mess. I didn't even see anybody being impolite. Sure, I smelled a lot of pot smoke and a lot of balloons being blown up and handed out post-show, but that's not much of a story. It was a beautiful night, a joyous time, and I'm glad I went, especially with Tracy around to explain to me why people gathered up glow sticks that were on the ground (to throw into the air at musical punctuations) and to hold my hand as we navigated the crowd. Probably my favorite part of the experience, the Phishiest part of it, was when she and I were dancing and hugging and her friend Ryan, whom I had just met a few hours before, came up to us and said "I'm really feeling the love between you two, and it makes me happy to see such good friends so happy." This warmed my heart; to me, being told that you look happy is one of the best compliments there is.

The next morning, I told this story to my husband and he made a face, I guess because it's hippie nonsense or maybe because he is just jealous. Maybe, like Phish shows in general, it's the kind of thing that you had to experience with an open mind in order to enjoy and not just make fun of.