When You Were 18, What Had You Done With Your Life? That’s What I Thought…

Last night, I took Jack to his first concert. It was Cody Simpson, opening up for Carly Rae Jepsen, opening up for

Y’all, we had so much stinking fun.

Despite the venue having worse acoustics than a tiled hallway with a concrete floor and a plate glass ceiling, we could hear and see everything pretty darn well because our seats were awesome.

Here are a few of my thoughts on the evening.

• There are so many stunningly beautiful young girls in central Arkansas. I mean gorgeous. Seeing them en masse reminded me of the good old days when I, too, was a young, firm, skinny, glowing head-turner. Alas, those days are gone. And I won’t lie — I’m a little bitter about that. I don’t miss much about the past, especially not the years from, say, 13 to 23. But sweet Jesus what I wouldn’t give to have my appearance of my youth to go along with the wisdom of my old age.
• Out of those beautiful young girls, many were dressed appropriately for their age, and they looked classy. However, they were plenty who were, shall we say, inappropriate. Here’s the thing, gals: Just being a female at a hot boy’s concert already carries a little whiff of desperation. Let’s face it, you’re not there because you love the music or appreciate the message or really enjoy the backup dancers. You’re there because you want to scream your head off and feel a special tingle when Justin Bieber lifts his shirt and pretend like he’s singing just to you. We all know it, but that doesn’t mean you have to show it. Clean up your act, tone down the makeup and dress right. Famous rich boys don’t want to date trashy girls. Them’s the breaks.
• Famous rich boys don’t want to date middle-aged hoochies, either, but that didn’t stop them from coming out of the woodwork last night. I can’t unsee some stuff, y’all.
• Speaking of backup dancers, if you ever go to a concert with a lot of them, take the time to watch them. They are incredible. I was impressed by the choreography and the sheer talent of all the dancers. They really put on a show, and they deserve kudos for what they do.
• Carly Rae Jepsen is neither stick thin nor tan, and I love her for that. She’s just cute, and she doesn’t appear to be trying too hard to be something she’s not. She seems sweet, but like she still might make fun of hipsters with me. Girlfriend has an 80s fetish, though. Been there, done that, Carly Rae. I’ll watch as you flirt with shoulder pads and phones with cords, but I can’t be a part of all that nonsense again.
• And about that — did you know Hammer pants are a thing again? And sleeveless denim vests? God help us. Next thing you know, college boys will be asking for the “Kip Winger” when they go to the hair salon.
• It does not matter what is happening onstage — when confetti blows out of a cannon, 99% of people will tune everything out until they catch a scrap of paper.
• Justin Bieber, you are darling. You are talented. You are sincere. But you are also white. And Canadian. And about 150 pounds dripping wet. This means you are not tough. I know, I know, you have all the right moves and the right facial expressions. But I’m not buying it when you try to do the thug thing. Your tattoos don’t fool me. There is a fine line between swag and thug (I can’t believe I just typed that, but I know what I’m talking about), and I hate to see you try and cross it. Just stay sweet. You own that.
• At 18 years old, Justin Bieber is more of a honed, polished professional in his chosen field than many Fortune 500 CEOs. Take note, kiddos: Bieber didn’t get where he is because he goofs around or knows the right people or just does what it takes to get by. He is a product of discipline, unceasing practice, sacrifice and a willingness to give 100% when he’s at “work.”
• But no matter how special Justin Bieber is, or how loudly people scream for him, some people just ain’t having it. This little girl who was sitting in front of us had one desire, and one desire only: Hear Carly Rae sing “Call Me Maybe.” After that happened, she sighed with content, then promptly fell asleep. And stayed asleep for the entire rest of the concert. Dang, girl. I didn’t think anyone was more adept at sleeping any time, any place than my husband, but you put him to shame, sweetheart!

• Nothing beats spending an evening with my little man, watching him sing and dance and have the time of his life. That experience was priceless, and I’m glad I got to do this with him. (Besides, it was a damn good show.)

Now, for all you Beliebers who accidentally stumbled on this post from a Justin-related Google search (I have mad SEO skillz, it will happen), I have a little something for you. It’s a short video of him making his entrance. The sound is a bit poor, my camera skills suck, and yes, I’m that idiot who always forgets to turn her phone to the side when taking video. But if last night was any indication, judging by the fact y’all lost your business every time so much as a stagehand crossed in front of the curtain, y’all will scream your heads off over anything Bieber-related. So you’re welcome.